


messy // george weasley

by poppyflwrs



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Bakery, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Consent, Eventual Romance, F/M, Finger Sucking, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, George Weasley-centric, Light Bondage, Minor Original Character(s), Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Dean Thomas/Ginny Weasley, Rings, Second-Hand Embarrassment, Vaginal Fingering, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:14:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 101,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28677258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppyflwrs/pseuds/poppyflwrs
Summary: What they had was never very clean, but things usually do get messy in the kitchen.//MATURE CONTENT AHEAD!! contains smut, alcohol, language, etc. please only read if you are mature enough to handle those things.//This story is set in an AU based after the war where Fred does not die because I say so.All rights for the HP characters, places, spells, etc go to JK Rowling.
Relationships: Dean Thomas/Original Female Character(s), George Weasley/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	1. Evanesco

The pale pink building standing before her seemed more daunting than she had ever imagined. Perhaps if she stood in front of it for long enough it, along with her nerves, may shrink.

"You know it will probably just be easier on yourself to just go inside," whispered her brother, ruining the moment she was having inside her mind.

"Shut up, Mitchell," she spat back. "It's called going at your own pace."

"Well, I didn't realize that you were a part snail."

She shot him a pointed look. It wasn't her fault she had yet to leave the cobblestones that messily lined the road in front of her new shop. Willow blamed her feet. And possibly her brain that was buzzing with the sixty-seven negative outcomes that occurred if she was to open that door.

"Sweetheart, please hurry up. We aren't paying half your rent so you can live on the streets outside of your flat," said her father as he plopped another box onto the stack that was quickly growing in size.

Willow glanced at her dad as he strolled back to the moving truck parked a few feet away.

"Dad, you do realize that you're in the middle of Diagon Alley, right? There's no use in moving everything out of the truck. We could literally be done in thirty seconds if you allowed us to help you," she said, gesturing to the wand sticking out of her jacket pocket.

Her dad sighed, "Yes, but you kids need to learn that not everything in life has to be done using magic. A little bit of sweat never hurt anyone."

Willow, Mitchell, and her mother all rolled their eyes.

Even though her dad, a muggle, had knowingly married into a magic family he had never quite come around to the idea of it. Quite ridiculous if you asked Willow, but people rarely did.

Edith and Nicholas Sweetwood had given birth to two magical children and one muggle. Willow had been lucky enough to be included in the former. Her older, twin brothers, Leo and Mitchell, had only gotten half lucky. She did not envy Leo's position as the only muggle child, but at least he had their dad to confine in.

At this point in her life, twenty-two, fresh out of culinary school, and scared of the world ahead of her, Willow really could not imagine her life without magic. She couldn't help but pity Leo, although he had certainly survived twenty-six years without it so far. 

She couldn't completely blame her father. The wizarding world had just recently come out on the other side of a deadly war. However, Willow was lucky enough to have graduated from Hogwarts long before the battle had occurred. She knew of wizards and witches still in classes there or folks that had gone back to help, but she had never considered herself much of a hero.

"Oi! Willie, get your head out of your arse and open the damned door already," shouted Leo, breaking Willow out of her daydream.

"Goodness me, Leo. Let the girl live," Willow's mother responded as she walked up to the spot next to her.

"Love, I can only hold them off for so long," she whispered to her daughter. "It may be in your interest to, in fact, 'open that damned door,' as your brother so lovingly put it."

Willow glanced at her mother as she shot her a reassuring smile. She made a point. Even though it was early enough for the other shops in Diagon Alley to be closed, there was still the occasional witch or wizard walking down the streets taking in the full view of all of her things. That thought alone was enough to finally push her towards the door.

Just as she was finally fishing her keychain out of her pockets, she heard a nearby door swing open with a bang. She glanced across the alley where she found a rather tall, ginger wizard leaning against the doorframe, talking to the witch opposite him.

She didn't have to think for very long before settling on the identity of said man. He had to be one of the Weasley twins. At least, she assumed he was one of the twins. He could have been any of the siblings for all she knew.

Willow watched as the duo flirted for a few seconds before the man leaned down to peck the woman's cheek. Her face blushed pink as she watched what could only be assumed as a private moment. She should have turned away, but why was it that she felt like she couldn't take her eyes off the man?

As the lady Apparated away from the door, Willow continued to stare at the Weasley. However, this time her stare was matched. The man had caught her gaze without her realizing and was now scanning her body for a sign as to how he knew her. Growing pinker by the minute, Willow quickly turned her attention back to her own door. A boy like that was the last thing she needed right now, no matter how dashing he looked.

She darted her eyes back to the door only to see it already closed and abandoned. Why she felt a sudden pang of sadness is something she didn't want to acknowledge right now, so she thrust her hand back into her coat pocket to find the keys to her new shop.

☆☆☆

"Please, for the love of Merlin, Mitchell! Be careful with those, they're made of glass!" Willow yelped as she watched yet another glass bowl freeze mid-air.

Her whole family froze as Mitchell carefully levitated the bowl onto a nearby shelf. This was about how the past four hours had been. Willow had already lost several ceramic bowls and her favorite spatula had a dent.

While she appreciated their help, she didn't know how much more she could take of her family. And apparently, her mother had noticed.

"Boys, why don't you all walk around the shops nearby and take note of Willow's competition? Maybe find us some lunch while you're at it," Mrs. Sweetwood said.

It didn't take much to convince her brothers to stop "helping" and they were soon walking out the front door with her father.

Willow let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding in.

"Thank you for that, mother," she said, cracking her knuckles in an attempt to release her stress.

"Of course, sweetie. I could tell that they were getting on your last nerve already."

Willow sighed, "Well don't get it twisted. I am very grateful that you're all here to help me set everything up, I'm just stressed out."

Willow's mother came around the large island standing between the two women so that she could hug her daughter.

"We understand, Willow. No one blames you for being scared or stressed. Although your brothers' clumsiness is probably not helping," she said, breaking away from their hug.

Willow laughed at the image of Mitchell with his hand reaching towards the suspended glass bowl. She loved her family, but she also couldn't wait for them to leave.

"Yeah, if Mitchell or Leo even come close to breaking one more of my belongings I don't know if I'll be able to stop myself from hexing them."

Her mum rolled her eyes, "Sweetie, you know it isn't fair to hex Leo, he can't exactly fight back."

"I know, I was only semi-kidding," Willow said. "I do wish dad would ease up on his anti-magic rules, though. I mean we're literally standing in a future magical bakery, plus everything would get done a lot quicker."

Mrs. Sweetwood moved to sit in a chair placed in the corner, "I can talk to him if you'd like. You know, we've been married for nearly thirty years, I don't know why he still acts like this."

"I really can't believe you guys have been married for that long," Willow said, hopping onto the counter to rest her legs.

Her mother wistfully sighed, "You know that could be you one day. Your father and I got married at twenty-four. It's too late for the twins, although Mitchell does have Taylor, so you've got two years to find yourself a husband or wife."

Willow laughed, "Mother, I am not a lesbian. As far as I know, I shall be finding a husband. But besides that, love is not really something I'm trying to focus on right now."

Her mother frowned at Willow's response, "Love has a mysterious way of finding you when you least expect it, you know. I was still dating Peter Pettigrew when I met your father in my seventh year. Imagine how different our lives would have been if I had married him instead."

Willow shuddered at the idea of a vile man like Pettigrew dating her mother.

"Well, I am certainly glad you didn't."

"You know some people say I'm the reason he became a Death Eater," her mother said.

"Yes, mum, I have heard you tell that story about a million times."

Her mother giggled, "You know you're a beautiful girl, Willie. You shouldn't have a hard time finding a boy, or girl, to settle down with."

"For Merlin's sake, mother. I am not a lesbian!"

"You don't have to be! You could be bi or pan or some other term I don't know," her mum said, putting her hands up in defense. "You know we would love you all the same no matter what."

Willow shook her head as she slid off the counter, "I'm going to go out front to start cleaning off the countertops. Why don't you stay in here to finish unpacking? Dad and the boys aren't back yet so I give you my permission to use magic."

"What's the point of me unpacking if we know you'll just rearrange everything the second we leave?"

She made a point, albeit a point Willow wouldn't admit to agreeing with. She just really wanted to get her mother out of her hair.

"Oh my goodness, fine. You can come up front with me to clean countertops," she sighed as she pushed open the swinging door that connected the kitchen to her storefront.

Willow had gotten exceptionally lucky in the placement of her new bakery. It was right in the middle of Diagon Alley and directly across from one of the more popular storefronts, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. She wouldn't deny that she was hoping that would help out her business as well.

She and her mother began wiping down the countertops when all of a sudden her front door flew wide open and what seemed to be a small firework began zooming around her bakery. Both women immediately ducked to avoid the sparks.

"Evanesco!"

As quickly as the buzzing had started, it stopped. Willow and her mother slowly rose from behind the counter. 

Standing in her doorway was who seemed to be the very same wizard she had seen saying goodbye to that woman hours ago. Only this time he was wearing a light brown suit matched with a dark purple tie instead of the pajamas from this morning.

The man grinned, "Sorry about that, ladies. My brother and I were only testing out some new products at our store across the street. One managed to sneak out without our knowledge, wish I could say it won't happen again..."

He trailed off as he seemed to take in the scene before him.

"Hey! Are you lot the new owners of this building? Shame what happened to the previous owners, apparently, they can't take a joke to save their lives. Literally."

Willow's mum smiled sweetly, "Yes, hello, dear. My name is Edith Sweetwood and this is my daughter, Willow. She'll be opening up a brand new bakery in this building in a couple of weeks."

"Nice to meet you, ladies," he said, shaking both of their hands. "Name's Fred Weasley. If you can believe it, I own that shop right there."

He pointed out the window to the large, animatronic ginger robot that looked strikingly like the man standing before them.

Willow and her mother laughed.

"Well, I am sure you'll be seeing a lot more of my single daughter nowadays," Mrs. Sweetwood said as she placed an arm around her daughter's shoulders.

Fred glanced at Willow with a smile, "I sure hope we do, ma'am."

Willow turned bright pink once more as she watched him turn on his heel to leave her store.

"It was nice meeting you!" she managed to squeak out as Fred walked out her door.

As soon as he had made his way back inside his shop, Willow's mum turned to her.

"Oh, sweetie, he was cute! Did you see the way he was looking at you," she gushed.

"Mum, please, this is not what I need right now."

"Oh stop being such a downer, Willow," her mother said as she rolled her eyes.

She turned back to the counter she had been previously working on. It was such calming work, so why was her heart beating out of her chest? She settled on the fact that it was because of all the excitement they had just encountered, and certainly not because that Weasley twin couldn't seem to stop staring. 

☆☆☆


	2. Chelsea Buns

Willow woke up the next morning with what could only be described as a pep in her step. Her family had finally left a few days ago, and since then she had completely dedicated her time to getting the bakery ready for its opening. This morning in particular she had a long list of things she needed to accomplish.

The first item on her list was to get herself ready, but after that, she needed to head downstairs to her store to get ready for the several interviews she had scheduled. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she couldn't run the bakery by herself. She needed at least a few more pairs of hands to help out.

As she showered and got herself ready for the day she began to think about Fred again, a thought she had become quite familiar with over the last few days.

Willow was no stranger to the Weasley twins. She had been in the same year as them at Hogwarts, however, she was fairly certain that they had never finished their education because she did not see much of them during her final year.

She knew there were a lot of Weasleys, and that the twins were named Fred and George. Also, she was very aware of their younger sister Ginny for reasons she wished she wasn't. However, that is where her knowledge stopped. She had never spoken to them while in Hogwarts, her being a Hufflepuff and them being Gryffindors was probably to blame. She had always admired them from afar, who didn't but had never gotten close enough to touch.

They obviously couldn't say the same considering Fred had introduced himself to her the other day, but perhaps that was just a courtesy to show off in front of her mother. Regardless, she needed to get her mind off of him.

After grabbing a granola bar, she wandered down the back stairs that led straight into her bakery's kitchen. Willow glanced at the clock on the wall.

"Alright, I've got thirty minutes before the first interview starts," she said to herself.

She decided to busy herself by throwing together a simple coffee cake that she could offer to her interviewees. She probably didn't have enough time to finish it before the first appointment arrived, but she hoped it would be worth it in the end. It's never a bad idea to try and bribe people to work for her.

Just as she was putting her cake into the oven, she heard a loud knock come from the front of the store.

Willow snatched her wand to cast a cleaning spell on herself and made her way out front.

☆☆☆

"No, you see that was the problem! I thought I had added a cup of sugar, but it turned out to be blimey salt!"

Willow couldn't stop herself from laughing at the story Seth, her last interview of the day, had just told her. She was becoming increasingly tired after each interview seemed to end in a flop, but there was something extremely refreshing about the man who sat in front of her.

He was a tall, dark-haired man. He wasn't particularly skinny, which Willow came to realize is what she seemed to prefer. His brown eyes didn't seem as boring as brown eyes normally are, they were full of life and goodness. They reminded her of chocolate chips.

Would it be particularly unprofessional to hire someone because she thinks they're cute? It was her bakery, after all, Willow would get to decide in the end.

"Well, Mr. Kinder," she said, closing the notebook in front of her. "I think that you would, honestly, be a wonderful fit for Sweetwood's. How would you feel about that?"

Seth beamed at her, "Ms. Sweetwood, I would love that! Thank you so much for this opportunity."

Willow smiled as she stood up to walk him out of her shop. They exchanged a few more words about uniforms and times before Seth was strolling down the road and out of sight.

She felt good about her decision and wanted to keep her good mood going. Willow strolled into the kitchen to look around for something to bake.

As she flipped through her favorite cookbook she settled on a British classic: Chelsea buns. She quickly whipped them up and as they were cooling she caught herself staring out the window at the joke shop across the street.

Maybe her mum was right, Willow needed to put herself out there. She was twenty-two years old and had only ever gone on a few dates. She was still young, but being young is the time when you're supposed to put yourself out there to try and meet new people.

She didn't even have to meet a boy. Willow didn't have many friends, to begin with, her closest being her brother's boyfriend, Taylor. She needed friends her own age.

With all those thoughts racing through her head and the excitement of hiring a new employee, she made the snap decision to bring the sweets she had made to the Weasleys after their shop closed later that night.

☆☆☆

Several hours had passed since she had initially made her plan for the night and Willow was already beginning to regret her decision. They would probably hate what she had made, hate what she looked like, hate the way she talked. They'd probably hate her. There had to be a reason why she'd never crossed paths with them in Hogwarts.

She was now pacing in front of her fireplace, biting at her nail. She felt like she was going to vomit at any point, and it wasn't even 7:00 pm yet. Weasley & Weasley didn't close for another hour.

Willow suddenly ceased her pacing as she remembered the house warming gift her brothers had given her. She rushed to her kitchen cabinets where the bottle of Daisyroot Draught sat. She had never been much of a drinker so she wasn't about to get shit-faced just to walk across the street, but one or two shots could, hopefully, only do her good.

She took down a shot glass along with the bottle. Before pouring herself the first shot, she grabbed a can of lemonade her father had left behind during the move. Willow stared down the freshly poured shot as she questioned her sanity in making this decision. But before she had a second to overthink it, she grabbed the glass to down the liquid inside.

Her face contorted as the draught hit the back of her throat. Willow quickly grabbed for the opened can of lemonade in an attempt to wash away her bad decision. She stood in shock for a few moments as her body began to slightly tingle. Suddenly, the next shot didn't seem like such a terrible idea.

After downing the second shot and finishing off the lemonade, she had to admit she felt lighter and more relaxed. She decided to busy herself for the next hour by making dinner since she had suddenly become very hungry.

Once the hour had passed, the tingly feeling in her stomach had been replaced with nerves once more. Willow realized now that she had taken the shots too early. She was out of lemonade so she decided to take her third shot without a chaser.

Once the burning had subsided she walked to the bathroom to make sure she didn't look a mess. She frowned at her flushed skin in the mirror and tried to run a brush through her hair in a last-ditch attempt to look presentable. Willow took one last glance at the mirror before walking back into her kitchen.

She sat down on a barstool at the island where the Chelsea buns were neatly wrapped in foil. Her mouth twitched as she played with the corner of her shirt.

The grandfather clock in her living room only further rattled her as it chimed eight times. Unfortunately, she couldn't think of any more excuses to keep her from visiting their shop. It was something she knew that she would regret not doing, and even if she did end up panicking, she didn't have to stay long.

Willow grabbed her coat from the rack next to her back door along with the plate of buns, then headed down the back stairs to her bakery's kitchen. With each step she took towards the front door her heartbeat seemed to increase.

She was met with a cold gust of wind as she pushed open her door and suddenly found herself frozen in front of her shop, much like she was a few days prior. Only this time it was a different storefront she was terrified of entering.

She gulped down the last of her nerves as the coldness seeped into her warm body. Taking the first step towards the purple and orange building, she couldn't stop staring at the robot donning the bay window out front as she made her way to what she assumed was the front door.

She didn't have much time to decide what her next move was because the door in front of her was swung open by a large woman, who was balancing several Pygmy Puff cages in her arms. Willow reached out to catch the door and the witch shot her a thankful smile. She slid past her and made her way down the alley.

Still holding the door open, Willow slipped inside only to be met with what could only be described as a visual overload. The inside of W&W was an indescribable sight. It went up for what seemed like several stories and every single spot in the store was occupied with something bubbling, whistling, or staring back at her.

She was so enthralled in the store, she didn't even realize that she was the only non-Weasley left inside. Suddenly, she whipped around at the sound of a voice.

"Sorry, ma'am, we're actually just closing up shop. So unless what you're after is within arm's reach you'll have to come back 'round in the morning."

Willow stood frozen in place, something that was happening far too often for her liking. But this time it wasn't in fear or shock.

With her mouth agape, her eyes trailed up the gorgeous man's body that stood in front of her. Somehow he was even more dashing than his twin.

George Weasley was positioned a few feet away from her with a confused look donning his face. His mouth was moving but Willow heard no noise coming out of it. She was too encompassed by how long his fingers would be able to reach inside of her to realize she'd been staring for far too long.

She shook her head in an attempt to regain composure before hearing the tail end of his sentence.

"—you okay? Do I need to call someone," he said.

"Oh, gosh. I am so sorry, I must have spaced out at the beauty of your, um, store," she rushed to say.

She balanced the plate on her hip in order to stick her right hand out.

"Hi, my name is Willow Sweetwood. It's good to meet you, George."

He looked at her with a questioning smirk on his face before accepting her handshake. Willow couldn't help but marvel at how big his hand was compared to her's. Why did a simple handshake feel so good?

"Sorry, but have we met before? I'm just confused on why you know who I am, but I'm not quite sure who you are," he said, releasing her hand.

Suddenly Willow's hand felt lonely, but that didn't stop the immediate blush that flooded her cheeks. This was supposed to be the first meeting for both of them. She wasn't supposed to know his name yet.

"Oh, um, this is awkward," she said as she repositioned the buns in her hands. "I guess I'm not supposed to know your name yet. But, uh, I just moved into the storefront across the street from you guys. I met your brother, Fred, the other day. We actually also went to Hogwarts together. We were in the same year, just different houses so I'm sure you probably never noticed me anyway..."

Willow realized she had begun rambling as she watched a light smile play on George's face. She nervously tucked her hair behind her ear before continuing.

"But anyway, before I continue to embarrass myself: since I'll be opening a bakery across the way in a few weeks, I wanted to bring over some potential sweets as a way to introduce myself," she said as she held out the plate.

Before George could respond, a deep voice rang out from behind Willow. She turned her head to find the other Weasley twin coming from around the corner.

"Georgie, I've got to head out before too long because I'm meeting up with—," Fred stopped mid-sentence when he noticed Willow. "Oh, hello again, Ms. Sweetwood. To what do we owe this beautiful pleasure?"

Fred grinned as he came around the counter next to Willow to lean his forearms on it. She wasn't sure if she had yet to stop blushing since she walked in the store.

George crossed his arms as he glanced between his brother and her, "Ms. Sweetwood, huh? You two know each other well already?"

Willow's eyes widened as Fred began to laugh.

"Oh, my Merlin, no! We've only just met a few days back, I promise!" she said.

Willow looked between the two men as she desperately tried to find a way to change the subject.

"Oi, calm down, love. Only joking with you," George said as Fred's laughs began to quiet down. "Now what is it that you've brought us then?"

She took a few breaths to calm herself before lifting the foil off the plate she was holding. The area was immediately filled with citrus as the twins leaned towards the plate.

"Whoa, those smell wicked good, Ms. Sweetwood," Fred said as he reached towards the plate.

She smiled, "Willow. You can just call me Willow."

Much to her disbelief, Willow watched as Fred shoved an entire bun into his mouth. He then reached for a second before he'd even finished chewing. Once he had swallowed the first he began taking large bites out of the next one.

"These are really fucking good," he managed to say between bites.

Willow smiled as she turned to George who seemed used to his brother's behavior. She held out the plate to him in an attempt to offer him one before they were all gone. In doing so, she caused them to be out of reach from Fred who took this as an invitation to climb over their cashier's counter in order to snag this third one.

"My God, man. Have you been breathing between buns?" George said as his brother, once more, shoved an entire dessert into his mouth.

Fred winked at Willow before responding to his brother, "I have lots of practice eating a woman's sweets."

This caused George to roll his eyes and Willow's face to grow warm once more.

"Mate, what does that even mean," George questioned.

Fred snorted, "You know what it means."

This was not at all how Willow had pictured this exchange going, but she wasn't sure that she was displeased with the results. She turned her attention back to George seeing as though he had yet to take one of her buns.

"Would you like my buns?"

It didn't even take half a second to realize what had just come out of her mouth, and it was obvious the others noticed as well. Fred had begun nearly choking as he laughed while George blushed.

"Er, yeah. Please. I shall take one of your buns," he said as he reached towards the plate.

"Oh my good God, Ms. Sweetwood. I think you should start coming 'round here more often. I don't think I've laughed that hard in months. And I work in a joke shop," chimed Fred.

But Willow had barely heard him. She was too busy watching as his brother peeled back a layer from the dessert and placed it in his mouth, causing some icing to linger on his middle finger. She watched as he absent-mindedly licked it off before he continued to devour the sweet.

"You know you can just call me Willow, right," she said, tearing her eyes away from the show. "I don't really know why you keep calling me 'Ms. Sweetwood' to be honest."

Fred snickered, "Well if you keep bringing us sweets like those, I'll call you whatever you'd like."

"Oi, bugger off, will you. Don't you have a date to go on?" George said with a full mouth.

Fred glanced at his watch, "Nah, I still have a few more moments to stay here and chat up, Willow."

She giggled at the two boys' exchange. Even if it meant having to endure Fred's awful flirting, she didn't want to leave either.

"So tell us about yourself, darling. I heard you mention to George that we knew each other before this," Fred said as he sat down on the nearby counter.

"Oh, well, not exactly know each other I'm sure. It was more of just an 'I knew who you both were before today, but you probably hadn't heard of me so I might as well come to say hi since we'll, hopefully, be living across the street from each other for a while.' Ya know?"

As George reached for the last bun as he said, "So you'll be living in the place above your shop, as well?"

She turned to him as she said, "Yes, I shall be. It'll just be me for now, but a friend of mine will be moving in as well in a few days."

"Ooh, kinky!" Fred said.

Willow gasped, "What? No! It's a two-bedroom flat! I'm not dating anyone. She's a friend of mine from Hogwarts, she's coming to help with the bakery some."

Fred and George laughed.

"Noted," they said in unison.

She knew she had been enjoying herself previously, but she really didn't know if her face could take much more in the blushing department. She had probably turned every possible shade of pink since she'd walked in the door.

Fred clapped his hands together as he hopped off the counter.

"Well! Now that we have all the information we needed, shall we move this threesome upstairs? Or perhaps right here in the store? Willow does look like she's got quite the exhibitionist quality about her," he said, beaming at Willow.

Willow froze. Had she been reading them wrong all this time? How the hell was she supposed to respond to that without sounding like a prude? Was he even being serious?

She darted her eyes to George as she noticed him holding back laughter. She let out a sigh of relief.

"Oh, c'mon, mate. Leave the lady alone. You can honestly be so annoying sometimes," George said as he wacked his twin on the back of the head.

Fred broke out into a fit of giggles as he rubbed the spot where George had just hit him.

"She knows I'm only joking, don't you, Willow?"

She glanced between the two of them before a wave of confidence hit her.

"Well if both of you are in, how can I really say no?" she said as she watched the twins' mouths hang open.

"Oh boy, Georgie. I like this one. We should keep her," Fred said as he began to laugh.

Willow let out a breath of relief as she watched both boys laugh at her comment.

Fred glanced at his watch once more before finally deciding it was time for him to go meet his date. He thanked her for the treats with a wink and bid his brother goodbye as he strolled out the front door.

This now left Willow alone in the store with George once more. But this time she felt as though she had overstayed her welcome. She began to reach for the empty plate before he placed a hand on her's to stop her.

She hadn't realized how much she seemed to miss his hands until they had made contact again. Willow glanced up at him as he stared back at her.

"You don't have to bring your plate back dirty. We can just wash it here and bring it back to you soon."

She smiled sweetly, it was just another excuse to see George again and she wasn't going to deny it.

"That's awful sweet of you," she said as she lifted her hand off the plate. "You know where to find me."

George grinned, "Thanks again for the buns. If you couldn't tell by Fred's inhaling of them, they were really delicious. I'm excited to see what else you'll be selling soon. When did you say your place opened?"

"I hadn't," she replied. "But it opens, hopefully, on February 14th, just in time for Valentine's Day."

George turned pink at the mention of the holiday and it only made Willow want to stay for longer. But it was getting late and she needed to head home, she had some things to take care of.

She said her goodbyes to George as she buttoned up the front of her coat. Pushing open the door to their store, she felt much lighter and more relaxed than she had coming in.

She really liked her new neighbors. 

☆☆☆


	3. Crazyberries

As Willow walked up the steps to her apartment, she couldn't stop thinking about the interaction that had just occurred moments before. She wondered if she was the only one still thinking about it as she walked into her living room.

Fred and George were much more attractive now than she remembered them being at Hogwarts. The way that Fred had kept his hair long to frame his cheekbones, while George cut it short and choppy, made her heart flutter more than she'd ever admit. They had also both acquired a lot more muscle mass than she remembered, their arms filled the tailored suits they both wore perfectly.

But what distracted Willow the most was how compelled she was by the way George spoke to her. It had only been a few words, but each one had made her feel like she was a schoolgirl. She hadn't felt this way about anyone ever.

But she barely knew the man and he barely knew her. So she pushed it off as nothing more than a passing fancy as she busied herself getting ready for bed.

☆☆☆

The next morning Willow was awoken by sunlight pooling into her bedroom from the window to her left. She glanced at the wall clock, which was propped up on an unopened moving box, that read 8:37. She sighed as she lay back onto her bare mattress, contemplating getting up.

Willow had moved in four days ago and had yet to make even a tiny dent in the moving boxes that covered her entire place. Her family had made an effort to help her begin the process but had quickly given up when Willow kept abandoning her chores to order them around.

The flat was on the smaller side but she had an exact vision for what it was going to look like. Since she had nothing in particular to do today, she was hoping to finally make her dream apartment come true.

Finally sitting up, she pushed off the throw blanket she'd grabbed from her living room box last night. Willow twisted her body to wake up her joints and encourage them to start moving. Once every bit of her body had cracked, she finally stood up to make her way towards the kitchen.

Her entire place still looked unfinished, but she loved the way the dark green sofa didn't match the lightly colored wood flooring and the way the huge window next to the kitchen allowed for the entire place to be dosed in natural light.

It was a very open floor plan. The only ways to get in were through the Floo Network or the staircase that led down to the back of the bakery. Her bedroom door led almost directly into her kitchen where she decided to eat another one of her dad's muggle granola bars.

As she munched, she leaned her body onto the small island dividing the kitchen from the rest of her place as she surveyed the boxes in her living room. Willow's brothers had already set the couch in front of her fireplace and since it was too heavy to lift alone, that was where it would stay until her roommate moved in.

Using magic was also an option, but it was probably her father's influence that made her forget. The idea of her neighbors helping quietly floated into her mind, but she pushed the thought away as soon as it started. It was too much, too soon.

She finished the rest of her bar and tossed the wrapper into the nearby trashcan before making her way back into her bedroom and into the bathroom that connected her bedroom to the other. 

Once she started the water in the shower, she took a moment to rifle through one of the boxes labeled "willie dildos" in Mitchell's handwriting to find something to wear. After settling on one of Leo's old muggle sports shirts and a pair of dark grey joggers, an outfit almost identical to the one she was already wearing, she threw it onto her mattress and wandered back into the bathroom.

She took her time in the shower as she thought over how she wanted to rearrange her room. But as she was thinking about which rug should go in her room and which one could go in the living room, she couldn't help but find her mind wandering elsewhere.

☆☆☆

Willow had spent the last four hours hanging artwork, building a table, and unpacking her books and clothes in her room. She had accumulated a stack of flattened boxes almost half her height and she still had several more to go in the kitchen.

Her stomach was rumbling which she took as a sign to have a break for lunch. Normally she would have made something herself, but her body ached from overuse.

She moved from her slumped position on the couch to stand in front of the fireplace. Several pamphlets were stacked on her mantle, which she grabbed before moving back to her couch.

The Sweetwood family was from a small town South-East of London called Kings Hill. It was where her father had grown up and where he wanted to raise his children as well. Willow's parents had recently moved into her dad's parents' house due to her grandmother's health declining, so her father was more anxious about her moving away than normal.

Due to this, it seemed that he had gone to every single London travel agency to collect every informational pamphlet possible. There were even a few for Diagon Alley and how he got those was unbeknownst to her.

She fiddled with the ends of her hair as she skimmed the dining portions of the Diagon Alley booklet. Willow settled on a place she'd never heard of that was supposed to be only a few shops away from her's.

She stood up to stretch her achy body as she walked towards the coat rack next to her back door. Pulling on her dark purple down jacket, she stuffed the brochure into her pocket in case she got lost. She slipped on her favorite pair of black trainers, grabbed her wand and a handful of Galleons from an old mason jar her parents had saved up for their daughter.

Willow breezed down the stairs and out to the small, pink front stoop of her storefront. She craned her neck to see inside the Weasleys' shop window where she saw one of them showing a group of kids the newborn Pygmy Puffs and her heart fluttered a bit at how gently he seemed to speak to the group that watched him in awe.

She turned on her heel as to not be caught staring and began walking down the bustling street. Willow was amazed at how much this place had changed since her seventh year. She knew that after the war, a lot of places had to be rebuilt from scratch, while others had struggled too much to reopen. But to the naked eye, you'd think Diagon Alley had never seen a bad day.

She thought forward a few months to when her bakery would officially open and she hoped that she would be able to fuel the rebuilding of the community. There was nothing more in this world that Willow wanted than to own a successful bakery.

Since her grandmother on her father's side was a muggle, there wasn't much that the two could relate to each other with. But baking had always come naturally to both women. Willow had spent every Sunday growing up in the kitchen with her Nana. It had been a pipe dream for the two of them, but they still spent their time coming up with recipes that would be featured and talked about all over the muggle and wizarding worlds. They even went so far as to design a sign for the building when Willow was seven, a piece of paper that Willow still intended to put to use.

Ever since her grandmother had gotten sick during Willow's seventh year, she had dreamed of her opening day. She had been sick for longer than anyone expected and she probably didn't have much time left so Willow hoped that she would be able to see out their dream before she was gone.

Her train of thought was broken as she approached the small, pale green building with "Rosa Lee Teabag" printed across the top of the curved window in dark lettering. Much like the rest of the shops, it was dusted in the light snow that had fallen last night.

She didn't waste time inside of the small tea shop. There was only room for a few tables and chairs as the majority of the shop's space was taken up by wall-to-wall shelves stocked with every type of tea a witch could imagine. After ordering a cottage pie, Willow had found herself enthralled with figuring out what crazyberry tea might taste like.

Before she could decide on purchasing just one flavor, the grey-haired witch that had taken her order shouted her name in a piercing tone. Willow shuddered at the loud noise and looked around to see she was the only person in the shop.

She took the package with a "thank you," and strolled back onto the busy cobblestones. She didn't waste her time getting back to her store since her hot meal was calling her name.

Just as Willow was a few feet from her door, she noticed something sitting on the top step. As she got closer, she realized a cream-colored plate and a dark orange envelope with "Ms. Sweetwood" scrawled across the front in messy handwriting sat on her top step.

She instinctively blushed as she glanced around her to the passing witches and wizards. It must have been here for a while since she saw both twins buzzing around inside their shop as they helped customers.

She shifted the takeaway to under her left arm as she bent down to take the plate. Balancing her pie on the plate, she pushed open the door and walked inside. Willow set down everything in her hands on the cashier's counter.

As she stared down at the envelope, similar thoughts from last night came rushing back. She thought George had offered to clean the plate for her as an excuse to see her again. But the fact that he had chosen to merely leave it on her front stoop once she left only proved that she was dead wrong.

Her mind began to race as she thought back to every move she'd made last night. Had she overstepped her boundaries when she went along with Fred's joking? Maybe they were both lying to her and what she made for them was disgusting. Why did Willow even move to London to open a bakery? Everything she ever made was bad.

Before she was able to continue spiraling, a snowball hitting one of the large windows that lined the front of her building made her jump out of her skin. She quickly spun around where she saw a little girl with messy, brown braids waving at her sheepishly. The girl mouthed out an apology before running away to join the rest of the children that had just run out of the building across the street.

Willow watched as the girl ran down the street before taking a few calming breaths as she turned back around to the letter. She glanced between it and the still-warm cottage pie. She scratched her neck before deciding that she wanted to put off reading the letter as long as possible.

☆☆☆

Hours had passed since Willow had first picked up the letter. It was now sitting on her bed as she paced around her room, trying to decide if she should open it.

She had spent her time unpacking the last of her moving boxes and was very pleased with the way her room turned out. She had ended up pushing her bed into the left corner of her room. She only had one nightstand to her name, so it made sense this way. She had a large, walnut dresser next to her bed, along the same wall, that was already covered in clutter items she had rediscovered she owned while unpacking. Next to the dresser was the window that had woken her up that morning, but now it had white curtains donning the walls around it to keep the sunlight out.

Her favorite part of her room, however, was the corner diagonal from her bed where she had placed the bookshelf that her dad had built and her mom painted with dozens of owls and an overstuffed, floral-print chair that her grandparents had gifted her for the move. Willow had managed to stick an entire library into the small bookshelf from her childhood. Everything from cookbooks to old Potions textbooks to steamy romance novels was shoved into it and she wouldn't want it any other way.

The street below her had gone quiet except for the occasional drunken wizard headed home, so when Willow heard the slam of a door she quickly turned her attention to follow the sound.

She crept towards her window where she crouched below it and peered out from behind the curtains as she watched the scene below her unfold.

"Who is she, Freddie?" a shrill voice shouted on the street.

Standing just outside the door that she assumed led to the Weasley's apartment was a brown-skinned woman who seemed to be very upset. One of the twins quickly followed after her and onto the streets as he rolled his eyes.

Willow watched as the witch, who she guessed could be no older than nineteen, crossed her arms, waiting on the answer. He ran a hand through his hair before responding in a volume that nearly matched her's.

"Woman, how many times do I have to tell you that you need to stop going through George and my trash can? You're acting crazy."

So it was Fred who was arguing with her. And it seemed as though he had just made a huge mistake by calling her 'crazy.' Willow watched as Fred's eyes grew wide as he reached up to block the oncoming brigade of scratches and slaps that the woman was trying to deliver onto him.

Fred quickly grabbed her wrists to stop her, but she was able to quickly wriggle out of his grasp and managed to land a scratch down Fred's cheek.

"You do not get to call me crazy, Fred. You're the one that's writing love letters to some bitch while you're sleeping with me!"

Fred rolled his eyes and managed to catch her hands before she made contact with his face again.

"Mia, you need to stop trying to hit me or things are going to turn ugly. I didn't write whatever letters you think you saw in our trash. And even if I did, what would it matter? I'm not dating you."

The last sentence seemed to make her even madder. However, after that the two began speaking in hushed tones as the realization of where they were had taken over, so Willow was unable to hear the remainder of the conversation. But one part had stuck out to her since the beginning.

Someone in the Weasley household was writing love letters.

☆☆☆


	4. Surprise Visitor

Willow's hand flew to her mouth as her eyes darted to the orange envelope sitting on her unmade bed. She took another glance out her window only to see Fred and the girl walking back up the stairs to their apartment.

With no more drama to witness and the girl's words lingering in her mind, she felt like there was no avoiding the letter any further. She took a calming breath as she walked to sit on her bed. Pulling her legs onto the mattress, she picked up the envelope.

Willow ran a finger over the purple wax seal that held the letter closed. She wondered if she was about to read a love letter, but pushed the thought away as she finally ripped it open.

Her nose was flooded with the scent of fresh parchment as she pulled out a small, off-white card. It read:

Willow–

I apologize for missing you, but truth be told I was nervous to face you in person again. I hope that I do get to see you again sometime. Please feel free to test out any recipes on Fred & me. Come say hi soon.

George Weasley

(your neighbor)

She let go of the air in her lungs as she read over the letter eight more times for luck. This didn't sound like a love letter, but it wasn't the hate letter she had prepared herself for.

What stuck out the most was how he had claimed to be nervous to see her again. Why would he feel nervous? They had only met last night and hadn't even spoken for longer than 20 minutes. She had been nervous, too. But that wasn't unusual for Willow.

She began reading the letter again when an idea popped into her head. She wanted to write him back. It would show that she appreciated the effort he put into cleaning the plate and also that she liked the letter. Plus, it was a way to keep communicating with him without having to meet face-to-face.

Before she began the search for some ink and parchment she walked over to her bookshelf. She skimmed her eyes over every title before landing on the one she was looking for. Willow pulled out a tattered cookbook that her grandmother had passed down to her.

She slipped the letter in between two random pages before stuffing it back to its spot on the shelf. It was one of her favorite cookbooks, but she had practically every recipe memorized at this point so she had begun to use it more for storage. It was also the place where she kept a few special letters from her parents and the slip of paper that had the sign idea.

Willow rose from her position on the ground to begin the search for everything she needed to write George back. She already knew she'd have to go out tomorrow to buy envelopes, but she wanted to have the letter written out tonight.

After searching for a good thirty minutes, she had finally managed to turn up several scraps of parchment, an almost empty inkwell, and a broken quill she'd stolen from Charms class during her seventh year. Willow strolled out to her kitchen island, arms full, to sit down as she wrote.

She began to chew on her nail as the blank parchment stared back at her. She twisted open the pot of ink to dip her quill into the black liquid, pausing at the top of the parchment before she wrote:

Dear George,

Hello, friend.

Willow immediately regretted writing that. What a weird way to start a letter to a man she didn't know. She ripped the top of the parchment off where she had written for a fresh start.

George–

Thank you for the clean plate and silly letter. Both brought a smile to my bleak face.

Willow placed her head in her hands to suppress the scream she then let out. Why was this harder than any Arithmancy exam she'd ever taken? She sucked her cheeks in as she, once more, ripped the top of the parchment off.

It was slowly shrinking and she only had a few extra pieces after this. She picked the quill up once more and began:

Dear George,

Thank you so much for the lovely note and clean plate. I will stop by soon.

Cheers!

Willow

She slowly sank down her chair until she had nearly fallen to the ground. Willow had never used the term "cheers" before. Nonetheless, she was determined to write the perfect note back and she wouldn't stop until she had managed just that.

☆☆☆

Almost an hour and a half later, Willow was finally satisfied. She settled on writing:

Dear George,

Thank you for your sweet note & for bringing me my plate. I enjoyed finally meeting you & Fred. I'm happy to be across the street from you both. I hope you'll be my number one customer one day, I plan to be yours.

Willow

(your neighbor)

She let out a sigh of relief as that had been her final bit of parchment, but she was pleased. Her counter was still covered in pieces of other failed notes, however, she was too tired to care at this point in the night.

Her grandfather clock read 1:32 am, which meant it was time for her to sleep.

☆☆☆

The following morning she was going to be able to sleep in more than normal due to her curtains. Or so Willow thought.

She was awoken when she heard a loud Whoosh! from her fireplace followed by a familiar voice screaming her name. Suddenly, her bedroom door was thrown open and before Willow even had the chance to adjust her eyes, the figure had pounced on top of her.

"Willie, Willie, Willie, Willow! My one true love, my forever soulmate," the woman said. "Bet you didn't expect me here so soon?"

Willow attempted to push her off the bed, but the woman was stronger.

"Bitch, don't even bother trying. You and I both know I could take you any day of the week."

Willow groaned in response before jabbing her in the side so she could slip off the bed without being noticed. She stood in the middle of her room stretching before turning back to her bed. She watched her roommate write in fake pain for a few more moments before speaking.

"I thought you weren't going to be here until Wednesday, Juliet? You know it's Sunday, right," she said as she bent down to scratch the grey cat that had just wandered into the room. "What if I was in bed with a gentleman caller and you had just jumped on us, unannounced?"

Juliet stopped wallowing in self-pity long enough to sit up, "A gentleman caller? I wasn't aware I had stepped back into the 18th century."

As Willow picked up the cat she rolled her eyes, "Shut up and answer my question, please." She walked towards her bed and plopped down next to her friend.

Juliet reached out to scratch her cat's chin. "Hi, baby boy. You have so much soot on you from our journey here," she cooed in an unbearable, high-pitched voice.

Willow dropped the cat on her bed before shoving Juliet.

"Oh, my Merlin! Okay, I'll answer," she said. "Hannah, down at the pub, sent me a letter asking if I would start earlier than originally asked. And I'm not one to turn down an opportunity to make money sooner, so I said yes."

Willow glared at her, "Did it not cross your mind to maybe send a letter to your roommate as well for a warning?"

Juliet giggled, "To be honest, nope. Not in the slightest. It's not like you can get mad at me for living in our flat."

Willow sighed, "Well would you like the grand tour?" 

"Willie, I'm pretty sure I can see the whole place from anywhere I stand."

Willow scoffed. "Okay, rude much?" she said as she began walking out of the room.

She heard Juliet call for Bartholomew, the cat, to follow as she, too, walked into the main room. Willow watched as both of them began poking around at everything in sight.

"Where's all your stuff anyway?"

Juliet turned at the sound of her voice, "Oh, my dad's sending it over in the next little bit. Then you get to help me unpack."

Willow nodded her head as she watched Juliet's eyes go wide. Before she had a chance to stop her, Juliet had found the letters that she had left out on the counter.

"Willow Virginia Sweetwood!" she shrieked. "Who the hell is George?"

"Wait no, Juliet. Please stop," she said as she ran to where her roommate stood.

Juliet was a great deal taller than Willow, so she had no problem keeping the letters out of reach as she read every scrap that hadn't made it to the waste bin.

"Wait a minute," she said as Willow watched a light bulb go off in her head. "Neighbor? You don't mean?"

Juliet scurried to the window next to the kitchen to confirm her theory.

"Willow, oh my goodness! Weasley! George Weasley. Is this who you're writing to?" she questioned. "You've only lived here for a few days and you're already sleeping with the owner of the biggest shop in Diagon Alley?"

Willow managed to snatch the parchments out of Juilet's hands, and she quickly dumped them into the trash, careful to save her final draft.

"He's the co-owner, and I can assure you I am not sleeping with anyone," she spat out.

"Okay, red flag. Why so defensive?"

Willow ran her hands through her hair as she spoke, "I am not being defensive. And please keep your voice down."

Juliet rolled her eyes in response.

"First of all, who the hell is going to hear me? Two, fuck you, yes you are being defensive. Number tres, if you're not sleeping with him, why are you writing letters to him, creeper?"

Willow glanced down at the parchment in her hands and blushed, "He wrote me a letter so I'm writing him back is all."

Juliet looked at her with bewilderment, "I think I'm gonna need to need a full story here, mate."

Willow spent the next several minutes explaining everything that had happened since she had first moved in. As she was filling her friend in, Juliet's father Apparated into their apartment just as she was getting to the part about going over to their shop.

"Appa! You really have the worst timing," Juliet said as her father looked at both of them with confusion.

"Hello, Father Ahn," Willow said, embracing him. "I wasn't expecting to see you."

Juliet's dad was a pastor at a tiny Korean church in Scotland. When she had first met him, Willow had been instructed to call him Father. Even though the girls had known each other for nearly ten years, she had never broken the habit. A religious wizard wasn't very common, but according to their daughter, his muggle wife was the reason he became a pastor late in life.

Willow watched as the two spoke in Korean about Juliet's belongings, which were magically contained in the singular box Father Ahn held. She used this opportunity to slip into her room to hide the letter in her bedside table. She also pulled a sweatshirt on as she walked over to her window. She peered between the curtains at the bustling store below. Weasley & Weasley had only been open for nearly an hour, but it already had people spilling out onto the streets as they waited their turn in line.

Willow paused to squint her eyes in an attempt to find one of the twins inside, but her efforts were met with failure. Too much was happening to get a clear look. She sighed as she turned away to head back to the living room.

By the time she had made it back, only Bartholomew was left in the room. Willow watched as he batted at one of the crumpled up, failed George letters before making her way to the cabinet in search of food.

Just as she was walking over to her sofa, she heard a small Pop! sound from the other room. Suddenly the apartment was fully furnished with the things that Juliet's father had brought them.

A bright yellow couch now sat across from the fireplace, a rather small TV was propped on top of the table Willow had built the prior day, and four chairs now surrounded their dining table. As she bit into her granola bar, she peeked into Juliet's room to see her finished bedroom, but her father nowhere in sight.

"Where'd your dad go?" she asked as she pushed the door fully open.

Juliet turned, startled by the noise.

"Oh! Hi. He already Apparated out because their church service starts in, like, thirty minutes."

"Ah," she said as she glanced around the room. "I like it. Everything looks really good, Jules."

Juliet smiled before asking Willow to continue updating her on everything that she had missed. And after a few minutes of rambling, she was still confused.

"So what I'm not understanding is why you're so nervous to write him back when literally nothing has happened. Like, you guys talked for ten minutes and now you're in love?"

"I am not in love," Willow sighed. "I just think he's very charming and quite fit, so what's the harm in writing back as a way to keep talking?"

"Or you could just walk a few feet across the street and talk to him in person like a normal girl."

Willow shoved her friend in response.

"I just don't want to overstep my boundaries. Plus, their shop is always so crowded that I probably wouldn't even be able to get a moment alone with him."

Juliet raised her eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh, so it's a moment alone you're after? I understand now. There's nothing wrong with some storage room sex."

After shoving her once more, Willow responded, "Juliet, please. You're not being helpful. I'm not trying to sleep with him. Furthermore, I'm not even trying to date him. I just think it would be nice to at least have a friend that understands the struggles of running your own business."

"I still think you're just after a good shag. But I suppose I can support you having another friend, as long as you don't end up leaving me for him," she said, placing a hand over her heart for the dramatic flair Willow had missed.

"Speaking of a good shag," Juliet continued. "We should go out next weekend to a muggle club. I can tell this is going to be a long week for both of us."

☆☆☆

Juliet was very right. By the time the following Friday came around, Willow was exhausted. She had spent the entire week ordering supplies, rewriting recipes, and training Seth. She had also managed to hire several new employees that wouldn't need to start until closer to opening day. Her favorite was a lady in her upper twenties named Everly, Willow hoped the two women would become friends.

Training Seth had gone better than she expected. He was a quick learner and very fun to be around. He had grown up in a muggle household, so he shared her frustrations with the 'no magic in the house' rule. She felt like she may have been developing a small crush on him but decided to keep the relationship strictly professional, for now.

After Juliet moved in on Sunday, Willow wasn't able to see much of her except for brief hellos and goodbyes since she had been working at the Leaky Cauldron almost every day this week. Apparently, they were more in need of help than Juliet expected. But Willow was happy to have even the smallest of moments with her oldest friend.

Willow worked long hours each day of the week, except for the small break she took on Monday to run to the post office to buy envelopes. She had settled on some beautiful lavender ones, so that night, after Weasley & Weasley had closed and she watched to make sure both men were upstairs, Willow had slipped George's letter under the shop's front door so it would be found the following morning.

However, while she hadn't stopped thinking about it since, it didn't seem like anyone else was. Juliet had brought it up once, but, more importantly, she hadn't heard from George since then.

Willow was trying her hardest not to let her thoughts spiral into regret which was why she decided to throw herself into getting the bakery ready all week. But it had proven useless because now it was Friday night and she was biding her time until Juliet was home by sitting in her corner chair with a book that had been open on page one for an hour.

After stewing for what felt like forever, she finally heard the back door open in the other room. Willow didn't waste any time as she shoved the book she was holding back on the shelf and ran out to meet Juliet.

"Jules! Oh my, goodness. I'm so glad you're home from work. I need a distraction so badly. Can we please watch a movie or something?" Willow said as she hugged her friend.

Juliet laughed, "I wish I'd get greeted like this more often. And no, we can't watch a movie because we're going out tonight, remember?"

Willow quickly pulled away from the hug as realization washed over her. She had been so preoccupied this week she had forgotten about agreeing to go out last weekend.

"Oh, Juliet. Please no. I-I've changed my mind. I don't think I want–"

She was cut off as Juliet placed a hand up.

"Cut the shit, Willow. I don't want to hear that tonight," she said as she began walking into her room, Willow and Bartholomew trailing behind. "An old man said some very misogynistic things to me tonight and I am not in the mood. He had the audacity to call me a whore and tell me to go back to my own country. I mean, Hannah even had to call Neville Longbottom–if you remember him–of all people to come and throw the guy out."

Willow listened as Juliet raged on about the man for several more minutes, hoping that she had forgotten about their plans. After it seemed she had calmed down, Juliet began to push Willow into their bathroom and through to her bedroom.

"Now that I have caught you up on my terrible night and why we are going out no question, please change out of those ugly sweats and put on something that will turn heads. My cousin is working as a bouncer for a super hot muggle club tonight and I won't be going alone," she said as she closed the door to the bathroom, leaving Willow in shock.

Once Juliet had her mind set on something, there was no use in trying to change it. Willow was going to end up in a nightclub within the hour whether she wanted to or not, so she decided to at least dress the part.

She had never been to a London club, so she wasn't quite sure what to wear. As she searched through her closet, Juliet burst in once more. It had taken her about ten minutes to completely change her look. She now had on a fluorescent, midi slip dress, tall, black boots, and bright eyeshadow to match.

"I knew you'd be in here unable to decide if your clothes worked, so I came to help. I saw a shirt in your closet the other day that I almost stole, so I've decided it's what you're wearing."

Before Willow had a moment to protest, Juliet had shoved her aside and was now digging through her tiny closet. She pulled out a dark pink cropped top and a pair of black, velvet pants.

As she tossed them at Willow she said, "I'm sure you can find shoes to match, and maybe put on a little make-up if you feel like it. I'll be in the kitchen making us drinks so you have about ten minutes before I force you into the clothes myself."

Once more, Juliet left the room before Willow could answer. She listened as her roommate talked to herself and her cat about whatever she was making. As she did so, she pulled on the clothes Juliet had picked out. Willow didn't even know she owned this shirt and she hadn't seen these pants in several years. Thankfully, both fit and as she paused in the mirror hanging on her closet door, she was surprised at how good she looked.

Willow took a few extra minutes to pull her hair back with several butterfly pins and dab some color on her cheeks and eyes before walking into the main room. She was met with Juliet adding the finishing touches on two glasses of light orange liquid.

"Oh my, Merlin, Willie! You look gorgeous. I haven't seen you so done up in forever," Juliet said as she handed Willow one of the cocktails.

The two girls clinked their glasses together before Willow took a small sip and Juliet downed half the drink.

"You look beautiful as well, darling. But what is it that I'm drinking right now?"

Juliet smiled, "My mom bought me a muggle cocktail book after I passed my bartending test. This is white rum, orange liqueur, lime juice, and simple syrup. I think it's called a Mai Tai."

"It's really delicious, Jules. I need to stop by the Leaky Cauldron once I can have a break from the bakery," she said as she continued taking larger sips of the drink.

Juliet rolled her eyes, "So you can take time out of your schedule to go and buy envelopes to send a letter to a boy you don't know, but you're going to have to 'make time' to come and see your best friend? I'm so glad I don't like women."

Willow gave her a pointed look, "Tell that to Angelina Johnson during our fifth year."

As Juliet nearly choked on her drink, Willow had to bite back laughter. She coughed multiple times before responding.

"I think it's time I changed the subject by making us another drink before we leave. Do you have any muggle money? We won't have to pay cover, but drinks will still cost something."

Willow accepted the subject change since she didn't want to dwell on past Hogwarts hookups long enough to move on to her.

"I think I may have a few pound or quid that my parents left behind, I can go check," Willow responded.

By the time she had made it back to the kitchen with the money in her bra, Juliet had pulled a bottle of MD 20/20 to which Willow groaned in response.

"Oh, Juliet, for fuck's sake. We aren't bloody 16 anymore. There's no need to be drinking that after we just got done with your fucking muggle drink!"

"Sounds like someone's starting to curse a lot! We all know what that means," Juliet sing-songed. "Willie's tipsy!"

Willow rolled her eyes before glaring at the bottle in Juliet's hands. She wasn't wrong. Juliet must have added some extra shots into her drink because her body was already beginning to feel tingly. She watched as Juliet took down two more glasses before pouring them both a large portion of the bright blue liquid.

She felt it wasn't wise to protest, so Willow took the cup when it was offered to her. Both girls clinked their glasses once more and proceeded to gulp down the flavored wine.

It was going to be a long night.

☆☆☆


	5. The One that Got Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warning: contains smut :)

Willow and Juliet had been inside the muggle nightclub for an hour at this point. It had been easy to get inside, although Willow did feel guilty for bypassing the long line because of Juliet's cousin.

It was a larger building than she had expected. The front entrance led straight into an area with tables and booths along one side, a small dance floor with a stage in the middle, and a long bar on the other side. However, the two girls had breezed through this room and into the main part of the bar.

Willow was currently sitting in one of the many stark white booths that surrounded the huge, sunken dance floor. A ginormous bar sat a few feet away from them, and Juliet was sitting on the opposite side of the table, talking to a group of men sitting in the booth connected to theirs.

Hundreds of people must have been on the dance floor because it didn't look like anyone even had room to breathe. The DJ that occupied the booth at the front of the crowd was playing muggle music that she barely recognized in her drunken state. She had managed to drink four vodka cranberries since they had gotten there, only one of which she paid for herself.

Juliet suddenly turned to her and said, "These boys want to dance. Let's go."

Willow stared at her, unable to fully comprehend what had just been said. Once she had focused back in, she realized that her friend was leaving the booth, followed by the group of three men. One of them, a rather beefy, dark-haired guy, glanced back at her and stopped when he didn't see her move.

She watched as he tapped Juliet on the shoulder and pointed towards Willow. Before she realized it, Juliet was grabbing her arm to pull her out of her comfortable spot.

She watched as Juliet turned back to the group of men to say something before dragging a sloppy Willow to the bathrooms. The two girls both entered the first stall they could find.

"Willow? Are you alright, love?"

Willow smiled, "J-Julie! I really don't know i-if-if I've ever-r-r-r been this dru-u-unk!"

Juliet watched as Willow slurred her words before sighing and reaching nearly her entire arm into the small purse she was holding.

Willow's eyes widened as she watched, "Whoa-a-a! How the f-fuck did you do-o-o that? It looked like, like, like ma-a-gic."

Juliet stared back at her, "Willow, please shut up. I'm trying to help you out but you're making it hard to want to."

Willow clasped a hand over her mouth to signify that she would be quiet as she sat down on the bare toilet seat.

"No! Willow, that's so gross. Oh, whatever. Just stay quiet," she said as she continued to dig around her purse.

After what felt like an eternity to Willow, Juliet finally pulled out a small vial. She didn't stop to explain before she pried Willow's hand off of her mouth and forced half of the purple potion down her throat. She twisted the top back on before placing it back into her bag.

Willow coughed several times as the sour liquid hit the back of her throat. It didn't take long for the drunk fog on Willow's mind to suddenly be partially lifted. She was now much more aware of her surroundings and the feeling in her lips had returned.

"What the hell happened in the last hour?"

Juliet laughed, "You can't handle your alcohol anymore, that's what happened. You know we've had the same amount to drink and I'm perfectly fine."

Willow rolled her eyes, "Juliet you're a bartender and I'm a baker. I'm pretty sure you're a little more experienced with the stuff than I am. What the hell was in that thing you gave me anyway?"

"It was a sobering potion they sell at the Cauldron so that people will want to drink more and spend money. Hannah came up with it, the cheeky bastard."

Willow nodded, "I still feel kind of drunk though."

Juliet pulled out the bottle again to hand it to her.

"I only gave you half because I didn't think you'd want to be completely sober when we go dance with those men that're so graciously awaiting us."

Willow pocketed the vial as Juliet pulled her out of the stall and back into the main room of the club. The three men were still standing next to the table where they had left them. Willow couldn't help but think it was a little odd that they had waited all that time but pushed it off as Juliet spoke.

"Sorry about that, boys. You lot are so kind to wait for us," she cooed as she batted her eyelashes, a move Willow had seen a million times.

The three men seemed to melt at Juliet's words and honestly, Willow didn't care that much. She kind of missed the drunk feeling from a few moments ago because it would make getting left out more tolerable.

She knew that Juliet didn't do it on purpose, but it did still hurt her feelings whenever they went out and every boy wanted her friend and never her. But Willow wasn't in the mood to throw a pity party tonight. Juliet didn't need all of those boys, so one was bound to be interested in her. However, if she was going to be bold tonight, she'd need another drink.

She tapped Juliet multiple times before she finally turned around.

"Willow, I am trying to get us dick. What would you like?" Juliet whispered to her.

"I want another drink before I dance with any of these men," she said in an equally low tone. Juliet pursed her lips in response before winking at Willow as she turned back to the others.

She put an arm around her to pull Willow into the group as she said, "Would any of you chaps fancy taking my friend, Willow, to get a drink at the bar?"

All three of them shifted their eyes between the two girls before one of the men, Willow thought it was the same one that had stopped Juliet earlier, wordless offered up his assistance. This was off to a great start.

Willow glared at Juliet as she mouthed back "sorry" before leading the other out on the dance floor. She assumed they were supposed to come to find them after getting a drink, so she quietly turned her attention to the man in front of her as she stuck her hand out.

"Nice to meet you. I'm called Willow," she yelled over the music.

The man took her hand as he spoke in a deep Southern accent, "Nice to meet you, ma'am. My name's Hunter."

"Are you from America?" she said as she released his hand.

He chuckled, "Is it that obvious? I'm from Georgia."

The two turned towards the bar as they continued to talk. Willow wasn't sure she had ever met someone from America, let alone the deep South of it. She liked his accent, he also mentioned that he liked her's, and he was cute enough for her.

They continued their chat as both of them leaned against the bar, waiting to catch the attention of one of the overworked bartenders. After they were finally able to order drinks for the group they made their way out of the small crowd that had formed behind them.

Willow was so caught up in what Hunter was saying that she didn't even see the wall she ran into on the way to the dance floor. She managed to save both of the drinks she was holding, but honestly felt like she was in some sort of romance novel where the main character crashes into a wall to seem quirky.

But the wall Willow ran into had arms. Walls don't normally have arms that stop you from falling. She broke her gaze towards Hunter to trail her eyes up the so-called wall in front of her.

"Willow?" the wall spoke.

She was starting to think this wasn't a wall at all. It was a person she ran into. A person she didn't want to run into.

"Oh, wow. Hi, Dean," she said, taking a step away from him.

He rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, just like he always did, as he looked between the two people in front of him.

"Oh, gosh. I'm sorry, guys. Am I interrupting a date?"

Hunter chuckled as Willow rolled her eyes.

"No, you're not, man. I actually just met this young lady," Hunter responded as he reached out to shake Dean's hand. "But I take it you two know each other."

Dean accepted his handshake before speaking, "Erm, yeah. We, uh, we went to university together."

Hunter smiled at him as he said, "Oh well if y'all have known each other for so long, I'll let y'all have a chance to catch up! Willow, I'll see you on the dance floor, I hope."

Hunter walked away after winking at Willow and giving Dean a hard pat on the back. She resented him for being nice enough to think she would want to be left alone with Dean. He hadn't even given her an option in the matter, which made her no longer want to sleep with him. 

She turned her attention back to Dean who was awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other in front of her.

"So you're stalking me now, Thomas?"

He rolled his eyes in response, "You still have the same sass about you, Sweetwood. Would you hurt me if I asked to catch up with you?"

Seeing as though everyone else she knew at the club was nowhere to be found, Willow felt like she had no choice. She didn't want to wander the crowded area alone.

Without giving him an answer, she began walking towards an open booth in the corner of the room. Once she had reached the table, she turned to see Dean still standing in the same spot. She sighed before motioning for him to follow her and watched as his face lit up and he jogged to meet her at the table.

This corner booth reminded her a little too much of her seventh year at Hogwarts, and more importantly what caused the end of her and Dean's relationship, so she proceeded to gulp down one of the mixed drinks in her hand. Dean watched as he waited for her to say the first words.

"You're the one that asked me to catch up, Dean," she said, finishing the drink.

Dean grinned, "You look good, Willie."

Willow's eyes narrowed, "I don't think I really want you calling me that anymore, Dean. Also, that's such a lame line to lead with."

Dean sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck again. Willow had counted him doing that three times, and it was turning her on the more she drank.

"Well how about–I've missed you."

Willow groaned before stepping out of the booth.

Dean and she had never officially dated. Everyone in Hogwarts basically assumed they had since they spent all their time together during her sixth and seventh year. She had always kind of thought they would, which is why she let him take her virginity, but that was before she saw him in the corner booth at Three Broomsticks with Ginny Weasley.

It was an image that took a while for her to get over. She knew that the two of them were never officially dating, and she was even aware that Dean had been talking to Ginny at the beginning of her seventh year, but she wasn't aware how serious it was until the day she saw them. Willow hadn't spoken to him since then; she ignored his attempts to contact her and walked the other direction in the halls.

Thankfully, she had graduated a few months afterward so she was able to quickly forget about him once she started culinary school, so running into him at a random muggle club was not in her plan book.

Dean didn't allow Willow to walk far before he grabbed her arm to turn her around. She stared into his soft brown eyes as she tried to avoid feeling like a sixth year again. She thought she had gotten over him but was slowly proving that she was wrong.

"Please," he spoke in a soft tone. "Please, just come and let me talk to you."

As usual, she had a hard time saying no, so Willow walked back to the table with him. She began sipping on the second drink as she listened to him talk.

"Willow, I want to apologize for what I did to you during my fifth year. You're a brilliant girl and I'm sorry that I wasn't more open with you about my relationship with Ginny. I was too immature for either of you."

He continued, "What I went through during the war really put a lot of things into perspective for me, and, honestly, I didn't ever stop thinking about you. I always knew Ginny would end up with Potter, and it was stupid of me to think I could change her mind just for the hell of it."

With every word he said and every sip of her drink she took, Willow's mind was becoming cloudy with thoughts she hadn't had in years. She missed him, too. And he looked really fit in the dark blue jeans and light green jumper that he had on.

It didn't take much effort to convince herself to ask him, "Do you want to dance?"

Dean's eyes widened as realization broke through him. He quickly stood up and offered a hand to her. Willow dumped the rest of the cocktail down her throat before placing her hand in his to stand up.

He led her towards the sea of slightly blurry people moving in beat with the bass that echoed through her body. She couldn't decide if things were blurry because of the colored lights that flashed in time with the music or because she was slowly reaching the same level of intoxication she was before the Sobering Solution.

Her debate was quickly forgotten as Dean stopped in the middle of the dance floor and smiled at her. He spun her around so that her back was facing him as he slowly guided her hips into his.

It didn't take long for her to find a rhythm she enjoyed moving to. She was quickly losing feeling in her lips again, a sign she was drunk, but she didn't care because every part of her body that touched Dean's was on fire. Willow closed her eyes at this point, throwing her hands into the sweat-stained air. She leaned her head back on Dean as she opened her eyes to stare up at him.

He took this as an opportunity to begin slowly kissing her. He had started at the base of her neck and slowly trailed his tongue upwards until he left small pecks along her jawline. But that wasn't enough for Willow.

She spun her body to face him and quickly threw her arms over his shoulders as the two continued to move in time with the music. Willow tilted his head down so she had easier access to him before pressing her lips against his. She had missed the taste of him, although now it was more mature. His mouth tasted like dark rum and it was intoxicating.

Kissing him made her feel young again. And even at age twenty-two, it was a feeling she constantly chased.

She realized suddenly that the two of them had stopped moving their bodies and were now standing in the middle of the people, making out. She wasn't complaining, Dean's hands felt amazing as they roamed over every part of her body, but her social anxiety was slowly beginning to rise. Because of this, her next words left her mouth before she had a chance to process them.

She pulled away long enough to say "Do you want to go home with me?"

It didn't seem like Dean had to think for very long before saying yes. Willow knew she was drunk and she knew he was too based on the way he was swaying when he meant to be standing still.

There was nothing wrong with a one-time, drunk hook up with an old flame, so she didn't allow herself to change her mind before leaning in to whisper into his ear, "I came here with Juliet so I need to find her and tell her I'm leaving. I live at 92 Diagon Alley, can I meet you there?"

Dean nodded before turning to push his way out of the crowd and towards the exit. She stood to watch him move for a few moments as she noticed truly how turned on she was by their making out. She smoothed out the hair he had rustled before beginning her search for Juliet.

Luckily, she was able to find her after only looking for a few moments. She watched from a distance as Juliet had managed to be dancing with two of the guys simultaneously, Hunter nowhere to be found. She approached the group as she made eye contact with a very drunk Juliet. She pulled away from the two men as she hugged Willow.

"Willie-e! Where have you been?" she slurred. Willow rolled her eyes as she remembered Juliet's earlier words about who could handle their alcohol rang in her mind.

"I ran into Dean and I'm taking him back to our place," she rushed out. "You're not allowed to tell me no because I'm an adult that can make my own decisions."

Juliet drunkenly smiled, "That's okay because I'm going back to a hotel with those two American blokes."

Willow raised her eyebrows, "Both of them?"

Juliet nodded before pulling her into another tight hug and whispered, "You're gonna regret sleeping with him, but, as you said, it's your life. Also, I'm not that drunk, I've been pouring the sobering shit into my drinks so I can be in control of them later tonight."

She pulled away to wink at Willow before she walked back to the two actually drunk men. Willow watched as they began to effortlessly move together again before she made her way out of the club.

☆☆☆

Willow had chosen to Apparate to right in front of her place in an alley next to the nightclub, and she assumed that Dean had as well because he was already leaning against the door to her bakery holding a bottle of white wine.

"I'm glad to see that I was able to remember the right number," he said as he straightened his posture. "Looks like your dream is finally coming true. Maybe you can make me something tomorrow morning?"

Willow rolled her eyes as she moved past him to unlock the door, "There won't be a 'tomorrow morning,' Dean. This is a one-time thing."

Dean followed her to the back stairs as he argued with her, "But I went out of my way to buy some wine at the Cauldron. I thought we were going to have a nice night. Did my words back there mean nothing?"

As they reached her apartment, Willow bent down in the doorway to scratch Bartholomew's ears. She hadn't meant to make Dean think she was wanting to do anything more than a hook up, and now a storm of guilt was building in her stomach. She decided to prolong her time to think of a response by making her way to their cabinets for two wine glasses.

"Willow, I know you very well," Dean said as he placed the bottle on the counter. "I can tell when you're avoiding questions I ask."

Willow moved her eyes to meet his. She didn't think she had time for the relationship he seemed to desire, nor did she think she really wanted it. Someone else was trying to force his way into the front of her mind, but she shoved the thought deep inside of her as she poured each of them a glass.

"Willow!" he said, exasperated. "I think this is something we need to talk about before anything happens."

She gulped down the wine before turning to him and saying, "Dean, when I asked you to come home with me, it was to fuck, not talk. So which would you rather do?"

He paused for a moment as he glanced down at his full cup on the table and then back to her. Willow crossed her arms as she waited on an answer.

"Fuck."

He quickly downed his wine before pulling her body to his and kissing her deeply. Willow didn't hesitate to kiss him back as she placed one hand on his face and the other on his strong chest. Dean had engulfed her in his arms so she felt small.

As they continued their kiss, Willow began to push him towards her bedroom as the hand on his chest slowly drifted below his belt where she began to softly massage him through his jeans. This caused Dean to pull away from their kiss to lightly moan.

As they pushed through her bedroom door, Willow took her hand away in order to grab her wand out of her waistband. She quickly cast a silencing charm in case Juliet's plans fell through and then she locked the door. She placed her wand on top of her bedside table before turning back to watch as Dean slipped his shoes and shirt off. She did the same then turned the radio on her bookcase on to a random station. The quiet space was filled with slow, sensual music as the two met in the middle of the room.

"Just fucking?" she said cockily.

Dean lowly chuckled, "Whatever you say, Willie."

"I thought I told you–" she started to say, but before she had a chance to correct the name he'd used, Dean had picked her up to toss her onto her unmade bed.

He stood at the end of it as he took the time to slowly pull her comforter off so they wouldn't get anything on it. He then undid his belt all while never breaking eye contact with Willow. His slow movements were beginning to make her feel crazy. She took it upon herself to move to the end of the bed, placing her legs between his.

She grabbed his belt to help him take it off quicker, and in doing so was able to notice the erection stretching the fabric below. She threw his belt across the room before fumbling with the buttons of his jeans. Once she was finally able to pull them off, he was left in only his boxers. Dean grabbed her chin to tilt her face upwards.

"You're so adorable when you struggle," he slowly said. "But you've made a mistake. We're going to need my belt tonight."

Willow watched as he made his way to where the belt had landed. After picking it up he walked back to her as he began to maneuver it into makeshift handcuffs. Dean motioned for her to stick out her hands.

"And why would I want to do that?"

Dean scoffed as he responded, "If you're going to keep being so defiant, I'm gonna stop giving you an option."

He cleanly slipped her hands through the two openings before pulling the belt's end to tighten it. Willow was beginning to realize that she wasn't in charge tonight, but that didn't mean Dean would get off easy.

Still able to use her hands, she grabbed at the hem of his boxers to pull them off. His cock sprang forward nearly hitting her in the face, and Willow could've sworn he'd grown in the last few years. Dean opened his mouth to protest, but instead, a gasp escaped his parted lips.

She had begun lightly teasing her tongue at his tip. She didn't yet want to give him the satisfaction of her whole mouth, so she stayed at the tip for a few moments all while maintaining eye contact with him.

He had placed a hand on the back of her head in an attempt to push himself further into her, but Willow wasn't going to give in easily. She may have been the one in handcuffs, but he was the one that would suffer.

As his dick began to twitch with excitement, Willow suddenly pulled away. Dean stared down at her cheeky smile.

"Oh, now you've done it, Sweetwood."

Dean cut the beginning of her snarky comeback off as he pressed his lips to her's. Their mouths danced in time to the music as Dean began to skim his tongue along her bottom lip as if to ask for permission to take it further. Since she was getting wetter by the minute, Willow parted her lips to allow him full access to whatever he desired.

She had thought she wanted to be the dominant one tonight, but Dean's body was too intoxicating for her to do anything else than what it took for him to get inside her.

He reached his hand around to her back so that he could unhook her strapless bra. And as her breasts fell out, he began to lightly massage her nipple while placing another large hand on her throat.

There wasn't much she could do with her hands, so she settled on touching the only thing within reach. As they continued to kiss, she began stroking his erection, up and down his lengthy shaft.

Dean broke the kiss to moan before saying, "I don't want to be the only one that's naked. How about you get a little more comfortable, baby?"

Taking her hands away, she nodded. Dean placed a hand on her shoulder to indicate that he wanted her to lean back as he swiftly pulled down her pants and underwear.

He shifted his body to hover over her's before using the hand that wasn't supporting him to trace the skin on her hips, never getting close enough to where she really wanted him. Willow closed her eyes as desperation for him took over. She began to involuntarily move her hips the closer he would get to her heat.

"Willie, you seem so desperate for me tonight," he teased.

She rolled her eyes, "Don't let it go to your head, Dean. It's just the alcohol making me act this way."

"Is that so?" he challenged. "Well if you're not enjoying yourself I can always stop."

Willow widened her eyes, quickly giving away her front.

"That's what I thought."

Dean then placed a long finger into her mouth. She gazed up at his authoritative figure and began to suck on it. He pulled his finger out and traced her own saliva down her bare torso, stopping to trace each nipple. He looked to her for permission and once she had nodded he placed his lips on hers again.

He then began to drag his finger further down her body until he had it placed at her entrance. She began to squirm as she tried to shift her body down the mattress to push his finger inside. Dean chuckled at her before grabbing the belt that held her hands tied together and pulling her back to where he had originally placed her.

"I didn't think I'd have to tie you to the bed because you'd be just as good as you were when we were young," he said slyly. "Was I wrong to think you could be good for me, baby girl?"

All of Willow's dreams of dominating Dean flew out the window as he used her favorite nickname. He knew what he was doing and Willow was finally ready to give in to whatever he wanted to do to her. She extended her arms above her head where she grabbed a hold of her headboard.

"I promise to be good."

Dean smirked down at her before replacing where he had been lingering his fingers with his cock. He casually began to rub himself up and down her wet entrance.

"D-Dean," she whimpered. "Please."

"For a girl that claims this is a one-time thing, you sure are demanding of me."

"Am I not allowed to enjoy myself, too?" she bit back.

"Oh, I'm gonna make sure you enjoy yourself."  
With that, Dean thrust into her, catching Willow by surprise. Her back arched as her eyes fluttered closed and she let out a breathy moan due to how amazing he still felt.

He began slowly moving in and out of her, in order to last longer than normal, but Willow couldn't help but clench her walls tighter as she felt his dick twitch. This was causing Dean to lose his cool façade as he quickened his pace.

In order to match the sensual build-up he was experiencing, his thumb managed to find Willow's clit which he began to massage. Her hips bucked forwards with the overwhelming pleasure, causing him to go deeper inside of her.

Their moans began to fill the air around them, nearly in time with whatever song was playing. Willow hadn't felt this amazing in a while and the building pressure in her core was proving this correct.

It would only be a few more minutes before Dean's movements became sloppy as both lust and alcohol were taking over his body. The fire inside of her was about to explode and Dean realized this as he quickened his pace inside of her.

At the last moment, he pulled out of her to finish in her lap but kept massaging her clit to send her over the edge. The two of them breathed heavily in silence, never breaking eye contact. Dean gave her one more kiss before offering to grab a towel.

After Willow had instructed him on where they were and Dean had untied her hands, he pulled his boxers on and grabbed her comforter. She picked out a fresh pair of underwear and an old sweatshirt of Dean's she had kept after all these years and excused herself to the bathroom.

After using the toilet and getting redressed she took a moment to stare at herself in the mirror. She hoped she wouldn't regret what had just happened in the morning.

☆☆☆


	6. An Invatation

Willow awoke the following morning to an empty bed. She had fallen asleep the night before in the all-too-familiar embrace of Dean, but she now lay alone in a bed that felt too big. She wasn't expecting to be by herself when she woke up this morning, so her mind was racing with the events of last night.

As she rubbed her temples in an attempt to subside her oncoming headache, she wondered if she had really been that terrible in bed. Willow didn't have extremely clear memories from the night before, but they were enough for her to piece together what had led her to where she was now.

She remembered Dean using a lot of lame excuses in an attempt to "win her back," which was ridiculous because she was never his to begin with, she remembered asking him to go home with her, and then she remembered her hands tied together and Dean fucking her just like they used to. As of right now, she had very little remorse for her actions.

Her only regret was that the sex was bad enough to drive Dean out of her apartment early. It wasn't that she was hoping he would stay with her forever, she had made that very clear last night, but she thought they could at least catch up for a few sober moments. Although he had broken her heart, Dean was still one of her best friends for the greater part of her time at Hogwarts.

She sighed as she attempted to run her fingers through her hair, however, several large tangles stopped her success. Because of this, Willow began to gather some clean clothes. After throwing the first items she found on her bed, she made her way into the bathroom where she took her time in a hot shower to help cure her rapidly increasing hangover.

After ending her shower and throwing on the clothes she had laid out, she pushed open her bedroom door. Before she even had a chance to look up, she was immediately greeted by Juliet, who was sitting at the kitchen island.

"Good morning, beautiful woman! How was the fuck?" she said in between bites of whatever was in her bowl.

As Willow reached into the fridge for some water, she asked, "What're you eating?"

Juliet tilted the bowl to show the contents as she said, "Sticky rice, a fried egg, and some kimchi my dad sent me in a care package this morning. I moved out a week ago, and my parents think I'm dying. It's their third one this week, and we don't have much room left in the fridge."

Willow's eyes widened, "Did your mum send you her jam tarts?"

Juliet pointed at a tin on the counter as Willow excitedly opened it to find several small, jam-filled pastries sitting inside. After stuffing two into her mouth and grabbing a third and fourth, she turned back to face Juliet.

"Your mum's gotta give me this recipe one day, Jules," she said, cramming another tart into her mouth.

Juliet watched in distaste before picking the chopsticks next to her bowl back up to continue eating her breakfast. As the two ate in silence for a few moments, Willow made her way to their green couch before flipping on the television to the morning muggle news.

She heard Juliet place her bowl into their sink before the padding of her bare feet on the wooden floor moved towards the couch opposite her.

"Do we have to watch this shit? I don't care what the muggles are up to," Juliet said as she fell onto the couch.

Willow gave her a look, "We're both half-muggle. You deserve to give them at least half your attention."

"Well, I'm actually a lot more interested in last night's news," she said, sitting up. "I let the ignoring of my question slide earlier, but now there's no escape."

Willow groaned before pressing the mute button on the TV remote. She slowly turned her body to face her roommate.

"Why don't you tell me what happened with you first? I'm sure yours is far more interesting."

"Only if you tell me your story after," Juliet replied.

"I promise," Willow said as she held out her pinky finger.

After Juliet looped her pinky with Willow's, she dove into a very detailed story of her night. She had ended up going back to the hotel room of the two men she'd met. Juliet had slept with one of them while the other watched, and vice versa.

As Juliet put it, it was unfortunate the two had never wanted to do anything with each other but, of course, she didn't want to force them into anything. She had ended up sleeping there and Apparated home before either man had a chance to wake up, which sounded familiar to Willow.

Reaching the end of her story, Juliet gave her friend a pointed look, "Your turn."

Willow knew there was no use in avoiding the subject any further, so she began to describe her night as best she remembered. Unlike Juliet, she elected to leave out some of the kinkier bits, but she still went into decent detail about everything Dean had done to her.

"And I woke up alone. Can you believe that?" Willow ranted. "He had all these sweet things to say to me last night about how much he missed me, and 'Poof!' he's up and left by the next morning."

Juliet gave the story a thought before responding, "I thought you said you didn't care about what he'd said because you were only interested in sleeping with him?"

Willow blushed, "Well, it's not that I expected us to be dating by morning, and I don't even want that, but he really seemed to mean what he said. I'm just surprised at how quickly he left is all."

Juliet stood up before making her way to the counter where Willow, for the first time, noticed a piece of parchment resting. She watched as Juliet grabbed it before trudging back to the sofas.   
"What is that, Jules?"

She was quickly shushed before Juliet cleared her throat and began to read in an exaggerated, deep voice:

"Willie,

Sorry to dash so early, Aurors never rest. Let's do that breakfast you promised soon, I had fun last night.

Dean

"Promising breakfast doesn't really sound like you only wanted this to be a one night stand, Willow," she said, tossing the letter to her friend before making her way back to her seat.

Willow blushed deeply as she read over the scrap of paper once more.

"I did not promise him breakfast. In fact, I very explicitly told him there wouldn't be a brekkie."

"Well it seems as though one of you's lying," she said. "But, knowing Dean, I have a feeling it's not you."

Before Willow had a chance to respond, the two girls turned their heads at the sound of loud tapping on the kitchen window. She ran over to meet the two owls that were hovering just outside. As she opened it, both of them settled along the ledge that stuck out under the window, each with an envelope in their beak.

Juliet appeared from behind with two of Bartholomew's salmon treats in her hand. Both of the girls took a letter and Juliet tossed a treat at each owl before stroking the feathers of the one closest to her. They watched as the other one flew away before Willow turned to Juliet.

"Did you just give them cat treats?" she questioned. "Is that even okay?"

As she continued to pet the owl, Juliet said, "Well Captain used to get into them all the time at Hogwarts and it looks like he's still flying. I say it's okay."

Willow gave her a confused look, "Captain? Who the hell is Captain?"

Juliet froze before she shooed the tawny owl off the ledge. It responded by attempting to bite her, but she closed the window before it could make contact.

"I don't know who Captain is," Juliet rushed out. "Who's your letter from? Mine's junk mail."

Without glancing at the name on the dark purple envelope in her hand, she threw it onto the counter before attempting to snatch Juliet's letter. Juliet quickly attempted to get away but tripped on a dining chair causing her to crash onto the floor. The letter slipped out of her hand and skidded to a stop by the sofas. Willow sprinted to where it had landed then picked it up to check the return address.

"You dirty girl!" she exclaimed. "This is from Angelina! Are you two still talking?"

Juliet sighed as she stood up and grabbed the letter out of Willow's hand.

"I'm fine, thanks for asking," she said, tearing open the envelope. "And hardly. We write to each other, like, once a month, just to check-in."

Willow stared at her, "I wouldn't classify writing to each other once a month as hardly talking. What's the letter say anyway?"

After she had finished reading, she handed it to Willow, "See for yourself."

Willow quickly glanced over the letter. It read:

Juliet,

As always, it was great to hear from you. I'm glad you're enjoying work so far. I wanted to write to let you know that I'm having a party this coming weekend, October 25th, for my birthday. I would love it if you and Willow came. It's a costume party since Halloween is so close.

I'll be in London visiting my dad, so I'm inviting a lot of my old school mates. In fact, it's going to be at Fred Weasley's place, right across the street from you lot. So there's no excuse for you not to be there. Also, seeing as though she owns a bakery, would you ask Willow to make me a birthday cake? I can pay. I hope you both can make it, I miss you loads.

Angelina xx

Willow looked up to see a very red Juliet standing in front of her.

"Was that her owl?" she questioned. "That's why you knew who he was."

"Captain is actually a girl, Willie," Juliet retorted. "Boys aren't the only ones who can be captains."

"Oh my Merlin, you sound just like Angelina," Willow rolled her eyes. "Now it all makes sense. I knew you still fancied her."

Juliet grabbed the letter back from Willow before stomping back to the couch where she shooed Bartholomew off her spot. As she sunk back into the overstuffed sofa, she listened to Willow.

"Jules! We have to go! She clearly wants you there, and it doesn't seem like you're that upset about it."

"Oh please. You only want to go because you know that George is bound to be there," she said, rolling her eyes. "You just want another chance at a quick shag."

Willow narrowed her eyes, "I don't think I'm really after a shag from a man that doesn't even write me back."

"Well, who's that letter from? I didn't recognize the owl that had yours's and it seemed to fly off pretty quickly."

Caught up in the excitement, Willow had forgotten that she had also received a letter. She made her way back to the counter where the purple envelope sat. There was no return address, only "Ms. Sweetwood" was scrawled across the front. She instinctively blushed as she turned to face Juliet.

"Erm, I think it's from the appliance company," she quickly said. "The oven downstairs has been acting up."

Juliet shot her a puzzled look, "Appliance company? Willow, you're a witch. Why not just use a repairment spell?"

"Oh! Silly me! Of course, that's what I should do," she said as she grabbed Dean's letter, too. "I guess I should go write them back to say I no longer need their help."

Willow sped to her room with both letters in her hand without giving Juliet an opportunity to question her further. Once she was inside with the door closed, she cast a cleaning spell on her bed to get rid of any leftover residue from the night before. She then flopped on top of her fresh sheets and ripped open the new letter. It read:

Willow,

Your writing me back made me smile. I'm sorry that it took me so long to respond. Your letter ended up underneath one of our displays, so I didn't get my hands on it until a kind customer brought it forth. Maybe next time you can use an owl? I don't want to miss an opportunity to hear from you.

I used a color-changing spell to change my envelope to match your's, so I hope it lasts 'til you can see. Otherwise, forget I said that. It seems like you're making loads of progress in your bakery. Not that I've been watching you! I just happen to look out my window sometimes.

Anyway, if that doesn't scare you away, I hope to hear from you again. Maybe I can show you the post office sometime if you need an owl.

George

(your neighbor)

Willow couldn't help the smile that came to her face as she reread the letter several more times. She thought he had moved on from her, so she was ecstatic to hear from him once more. As a friend, of course, but she was still happy.

George had noticed her progress in her bakery and basically admitted that he watches her work sometimes. But she didn't find that odd, she'd caught herself staring out the window more than once. They were both just friends that were concerned with how the other's business was operating, nothing more.

She didn't want him to think that she had nothing better to do than write him back, so she decided to leave both letters from the men on her bed before making her way back to the main room.

As she sat back on her respective couch, she turned to Juliet and asked, "So, what are we going to wear to Angelina's party?"

Juliet scoffed in response, "We are not going to that, Willie."

Willow stood up and made her way to their TV which had been switched to a muggle fashion network. She pressed the power button which earned a groan from Juliet.

"What'd you do that for?"

"Jules, she asked me to make a cake for her. I think she expects us both to be there," Willow said, making her way back to her seat.

Juliet rubbed her face with her hands before falling across the couch. She stared up at the ceiling for a few moments before breaking the silence.

"I haven't seen her in person in over a year," she sighed. "We met up a few months after the war ended but that was the last time. She's only inviting me because she knows I live across the street. I'm a pity invite."

Willow reached over to hit Juliet's arm before saying, "You're not a pity invite, babes. You said that you guys still talk, she was going to invite you no matter where you lived."

Juliet turned her body over so that she was face first in a pillow before letting out a muffled scream. Willow watched her, unphased. As Juliet calmly shifted to her back, she spoke.

"I like her a lot, Willie."

Willow smiled softly, "I know you do."

As Bartholomew leaped on top of his owner's stomach, Willow moved to sit on the floor next to Juliet's head. She began to gently stroke her dark purple hair, and Juliet glanced up at her.

"You'll come, too?"

Willow laughed, "Yes, of course, I will. Although I know I'm going to be alone the whole time once you two reunite."

Juliet shot her a mischievous smile, "Not if you have a dashing, ginger gentleman to keep you company."

She sat up before continuing, "Or you could inflate Dean's ego by asking him to come along. I'm sure Angelina wouldn't mind."

Willow rolled her eyes, "You seem to think a lot more men are interested in me than actually are."

"I know that letter you just opened was from George, Willie. I'm not dumb."

Willow pursed her lips, "Maybe I could invite Dean. I enjoyed seeing him again and the sex wasn't too bad."

Juliet laughed, "What happened to not being interested in him?"

"Why can't I just invite him as a friend?"

Juliet raised her eyebrows, "But is that all you really want out of a relationship with him?"

Willow let her head fall on the couch behind her. She didn't know what she wanted. Dean had confused her by claiming to miss her and then leaving, although she now knew it wasn't on purpose. And she also couldn't help but think of George as well, but she resolved it was only because Juliet had planted the seed in her mind.

"I think I want to see what else your mum and dad sent you in today's care package," she said, standing up.

☆☆☆

The two girls spent the rest of their day eating most of the snacks that the Ahns had sent them and watching various muggle television programs. By the time night had come around, neither of them had a desire to cook, so they elected to venture out in the cold for supper.

Once they returned from eating at an Italian restaurant in downtown London, Willow and Juliet bid their goodnights to each other. This now left Willow sprawled across her bed, staring at the two letters she received today. She wanted to write them both back but didn't know what to say.

In her letter to George, she was truly at a loss of words. It was beginning to get hard for Willow to deny that she may have alternative motives behind writing to him. It wasn't just for friendship. She had been enthralled with him since the night in his store.

It was rare for a day to go by without getting distracted by his shop or her catching herself daydreaming about running her hands through his ginger hair. She missed his presence more each day, even though she had had such a little amount. Willow couldn't help but feel ridiculous for having such strong feelings about a man she barely knew.

And then there was Dean, a boy she'd known forever. Seeing him in the nightclub last night had brought up feelings she thought had long ago left. He was everything she used to think she wanted, even now. Being with him made her feel whole again, and she didn't think she wanted to lose the feeling so soon again.

In her letter to Dean, she wanted to come across as fine with what happened between them but also didn't want to lead him to believe she was chasing after anything more just yet.

She couldn't help but remind herself that there was no use in debating over which boy she liked more since it wasn't a sure thing either may like her back. She felt like a schoolgirl again, and she had no idea what to do about it.

☆☆☆


	7. Into the Rabbit Hole

"Would one of you mind grabbing more sugar from the closet for me?" Willow asked. "Juliet told me that her friend likes sweeter things, and I don't think this recipe is good enough yet."

Seth nodded before making his way to the storage room off the side of the bakery's kitchen. It was early Wednesday morning and Willow, Seth, and her newest employee, Everly, had been baking cakes for the last two hours.

"Thank you again for letting me start so early, Miss Sweetwood," Everly said in a hushed tone.

Willow glanced up at her, "Why are you whispering?"

She blushed, "Oh, I don't know. I'm just not used to needing to be upfront with my appreciation, I guess."

Willow laughed, "Well, you're very welcome. And you can call me Willow, you're older than me anyway."

Everly nodded before returning to the white cake she was carefully frosting with pink roses. She was a sweet woman, and Willow was more than happy to have her as part of the team.

She was older than both of the other two at age 28. She had long, jet black hair that Willow had yet to see in anything but a loose bun on the base of her neck, and she wore her thick, round-framed glasses at the tip of her nose, however, Willow had noticed it didn't seem to be on purpose since she was constantly pushing them back up.

Seth returned to the counter with an unopened bag of sugar, which he placed in front of Willow with a smile. He then sat back on his barstool to continue studying the papers in front of him.

Along with helping her bake, Seth was also working partially as her numbers man. He was currently enrolled in a muggle university studying to be an accountant, so she had planned to take full advantage of this. She had spent all of yesterday attempting to perfect a menu, complete with prices, which was now what Seth was looking over as the other two women worked on a recipe for Angelina's birthday cake.

The entire room smelt of vanilla, which was due to the spilled bottle of it in the trash, and the large, central counter all three people were working on was covered in flour and abandoned cakes that Willow didn't feel were worthy of the birthday party. She knew that this cake was important to Juliet, so she wanted to make sure it was perfect.

As he dusted off some flour that Willow had sent flying out of the bowl she was using, Seth cleared his throat, "Willow, I find it odd that you're charging so low for your food. One slice of cake shouldn't only be a Galleon."

Willow sighed as she stared up at him, "I guess that's what you're here to help me with, Seth."

"So you're giving me permission to rewrite your menu?" he said, picking his pencil up. "I don't think you're giving yourself enough credit with these prices."

"I don't want people to think I'm overcharging them," she stated. "I'm the new kid on the block, I can't make a bad first impression."

"Well, you'll be the only bakery in Diagon Alley if you don't count Honeydukes," Everly interjected.

Seth motioned towards her, "See? Evelyn gets it! I'm going to your office so I can find some more parchment and rewrite your prices. Call if you need me."

Everly rolled her eyes before continuing her piping, and Willow watched as Seth gathered his things before making his way to the back office. It was a spot she had hardly used, but she knew that her dad had filled it with muggle office supplies, so Seth would be content.

Once he had closed the door, Everly turned to her, "Did that twat just call me 'Evelyn?' I've been working with you both for the past few days and he doesn't even know my name yet."

Willow laughed as she stood up to find another cake pan in one of the numerous cabinets behind her. She mentally added 'labeling the shelves' to her long list of things to do before February. She continued to listen to Everly as her rant turned from Seth to the light pink rose she'd just produced that looked more like a bowl.

"Willow, you've been searching for too long. Just use a spell to find the tin," Everly said, exasperated. "You're just like my aunt, y'know? Neither of you ever want to use your powers for simple things. It's the pride, and the muggle, in both of you."

As Willow finally found the pan she was looking for, she turned back to set it down. Rolling her eyes at Everly's watchful gaze, she grabbed her wand and cast a levitating spell to lift the bowl of batter off the counter and tilt it into her pan.

As she placed it in the warm oven, she grabbed a rag to begin wiping off the counter space around her, "Who's your aunt? And why aren't we best friends?"

Everly laughed as she stood up to begin icing some lettering across the top of her cake, "There's a good reason why you two aren't best friends."

Willow shot her a confused look as Everly placed the piping bag on the counter and turned the cake towards Willow.

"Other than misspelling Angelina's name, I think it looks good. Although, I'm not sure how big of a fan she is of roses. Let me ask Juliet later on what may be better," she said. "Now, who is your aunt?"

Everly grinned, "Minerva McGonagall, maybe you've heard of her?"

Willow's eyes widened as she felt her mouth fall open in surprise.

"You're kidding! Professor McGonagall is your aunt?" she questioned. "I didn't even know she had siblings! Come to think of it, I don't really know anything about the woman."

Everly laughed. She had grown used to the brigade of questions that came along with people finding out who her aunt was.

"I'll answer any questions you have," she smiled. "You can have all the insider information you want since you're paying me."

The two women spent the rest of their time chatting about what it was like to grow up in the McGonagall family. Everly had lost her father when she was ten, so she was partially raised by Professor McGonagall when things, like the second war, became too much for her mother.

She had recently gotten divorced from a woman she seldom talked about. Willow sensed it wasn't a good relationship, so never pushed her for further information. That was partially why she had wanted to hire Everly, she needed the job so she could begin to get back on her feet, and Willow had felt a need to help her.

Seth popped in occasionally to ask Willow questions, but for the majority of the day they spent in the kitchen, the two women were alone. Willow was enjoying getting to know Everly, just as she had originally hoped.

Once the sun had set, everyone bid each other a goodbye, and Willow began to clean the kitchen from today's mess. As she scrubbed off some hardened icing, she heard the ding of the oven, signally that the final cake of the day was ready.

She dropped the wet rag and grabbed her oven mitts before making her way to the large ovens in the corner. Even though Everly had gotten on to her about never using magic earlier, Willow couldn't help but avoid it, especially when it came to baking.

Since it was her muggle grandmother who had taught her everything she knew, it felt cheap to throw all the hard work out the door just because she had powers. Plus, baking was therapeutic for her. She enjoyed how methodical you had to be during it and that you really couldn't focus on anything else until your dish was in the oven.

After casting a cooling spell on her cake, she didn't have to do everything by the muggle handbook, she flipped the switch on the radio in the corner to listen to the nightly muggle news. Even though she lived within the walls of the wizarding world, she felt a moral obligation to keep up with what was happening everywhere.

As she listened to the host drone on about whatever their Prime Minister had said that day, she decided to color her white frosting a dark shade of red, much like the color of the Gryffindor House. Even though she had graduated years ago, Willow had a feeling that Angelina still had a lot of House pride.

Grabbing a small palette knife, she began to scoop the frosting on top of the cake before spreading it smoothly down the sides and across the top. Once she was satisfied with the shape of her cake, she added a few drops of yellow and black to the final bit of white frosting she had left. She then used the now dark yellow frosting bag to pipe out "Happy birthday, Angelina!" in bold letters.

Just as she was putting the finishing touches on the border surrounding the cake, she heard the bell on her front door ring. She glanced up just as Juliet pushed through the kitchen door, holding a bag of takeaway.

"Hello, love," she said as she placed the bag on the counter and kissed Willow on the cheek. "Oi, is that Angelina's cake? It looks brilliant!"

Willow smiled as she piped the last bit of frosting left in the bag.

"It is Angelina's cake. Do you think she'll like it? There's about five more in the fridge if you're not pleased," she said, watching as Juliet opened the containers of food.

"I'll go have a look at them after we eat," she said, sliding a paper carton of sausage, vegetables, and rice towards Willow. "For now, I am starving. So let's please enjoy the food that the creepy line cook let me have for free."

The two girls fell into a casual conversation about what had gone on in each of their days. Juliet informed Willow that she had switched shifts with one of the other bartenders so that she could have Saturday evening off for the party.

She also spent the majority of their dinner attempting to convince Willow to match their costumes. Whatever she ended up wearing, it was evident that Juliet would make sure it could be classified as "slutty."

Willow wasn't entirely pleased with this revelation but also knew that she needed to do whatever Juliet asked of her so that she wouldn't be as nervous come Saturday.

After dinner was finished, Willow took Juliet into the storage fridge to show her each of the cakes everyone had worked on that day. They settled on a combination of a few of them for the final product, and then Juliet helped Willow finish cleaning the kitchen before they both went upstairs to sleep.

☆☆☆

The latter half of the week had passed in a blur. Willow and Seth had worked to perfect her menu prices, and also finally figured out how many employees she could hire, along with a multitude of other things that Juliet had been quick to label as "boring." She had also continued to train Everly whenever she had a spare moment. Willow thought that she was showing great improvement in the area of design, and she felt as though she was doing her Nana proud.

But it was now Saturday evening and she was lounging on Juliet's bed as she dragged a scarf in front of Bartholomew to keep him entertained as his owner flitted around the room in a fit of stress.

"Willie! Can you at least pretend to help me find something to wear?" Juliet begged, tossing a throw pillow at her head. She had taken the graveyard shift last night to be free tonight, so Juliet was running on fumes.

Both Willow and the cat quickly sat up as the pillow collided with them. Each turned their attention to Juliet as she was looking herself over in the mirror. She was currently dressed in a dark green jumper with a matching green beret.

"I feel like Peter Pan isn't very sexy," she sighed, throwing the hat into the depths of her closet.

"I would have to agree with you on that one."

Juliet shot her middle finger at Willow before venturing into her deep closet. She had used an enlarging spell on her's so she had three times the amount of clothing that Willow did stored inside.

"I do like the idea of going as an old Disney character," Willow said. "You could be Tinker Bell? And wear the same dress as last weekend."

Juliet stuck her head out long enough to say, "I'm pretty sure that dress is in the hotel lost-and-found by now because I did not make it home wearing it."

As she disappeared once more, the idea of Juliet being forced to Apparate home naked crossed Willow's mind. But she decided not to bring it up, so as to not bother her already on-edge friend.

Before Willow had a chance to toss out any more ideas, Juliet reappeared with a baby blue dress in one hand and some black and red fabric in the other.

"Fancy a trip down the rabbit hole?" she smiled.

Willow laughed, "Alice? And I'm assuming the Queen of Hearts?"

Juliet grinned at her before throwing the dress on the bed. Willow picked it up to examine it as Juliet changed into a black corset top, dark jeans, and a dark red blazer.

As she turned in the mirror, she said, "I think I'm a fan of this idea, Willie. It's casual and not over-the-top. What do you think?"

"I think you look very hot. And Angelina's not going to know what hit her."

Juliet rolled her eyes, "Well I think George is going to find you irresistible in that little number."

Willow opened her mouth to protest, but Juliet cut her off, "Willow, I'm you're best friend. I can tell when you like someone."

She sighed in response, "I'm not allowed to like him. I barely know him."

As Juliet sat on the small chair in front of her vanity to begin her makeup, she said, "Actually, I think you're allowed to like whomever you want. Why does it matter that you've only spoken once? I 'fall in love' with people after seeing them once in the supermarket."

Willow watched as Juliet carefully applied dark red powder to her eyelids before moving onto painting a red heart in the center of her lips. She had always admired the skill that Juliet had.

She thought about seeing George tonight, and couldn't help but feel excited. She hadn't written to him, or Dean, this week because she didn't have enough time to go to the post office as he had requested.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," Juliet stated, running a finger along the outline of her bottom lip.

Willow laughed as she stood up. She held the dress Juliet had handed her out. It was a baby blue slip dress, much like the one Juliet had worn last weekend, but this one had a few pieces of tulle protruding down the sides and was made from sequined fabric.

"Are you sure this really screams 'Alice in Wonderland,' Jules?"

Juliet glanced at her from the mirror as she drew a thin line of black liquid across the top of her eye. She turned to face Willow, cocking her head.

"Well, now I'm not so sure," she sighed. "I made that dress a few summers back, y'know. But I'm not positive it looks like Alice."

Willow pulled off the sweatpants and T-shirt she was wearing and slipped into the dress. She spun in the mirror before turning back to Juliet.

"I honestly think it's okay, Jules," she said, smoothing the tulle. "I get the impression there won't be a load of people there, anyway."

"Well, I think you look hot. So you should wear it no matter what," Juliet winked at Willow.

She tilted her head as she glanced over her body in the mirror on Juliet's wall. Willow didn't care too much about the costume aspect of the party, she was more interested in the opportunity to see Angelina, and possibly George.

Based on Angelina's letter, she had a feeling there would be a lot of people from her year there. People that Willow didn't know in the slightest. She knew that Juliet had gotten to know a few of Angelina's female friends from all the time she spent in Gryffindor Tower, but Willow had never really mingled with them.

She began to think about how she should have invited Dean after all. She knew that, even though Juliet denied it, Willow would be abandoned the moment they stepped through the door. She didn't want to be alone the whole night, but perhaps George wouldn't mind talking to her.

As she mulled over her thoughts, she began digging through Juliet's drawers to find a pair of white bobby socks and a particular white scarf Willow'd seen her wear once. She finally found what she was looking for at the bottom of the drawer and excused herself so she could finish getting ready.

As she entered her room, she tossed a few dirty clothes that were strewn around into her closet and shut the door to use the mirror. She ran a brush through her hair before folding the scarf in half and placing it at the top of her head. She tied it at the base of her skull and pulled a few hairs forward to make it look casually done.

Willow then rubbed some color on her cheeks before applying a little mascara. Afterward, she pulled on the bobby socks and a pair of platformed Mary Janes before walking back to Juliet's room. As she entered, Juliet stood up to step into a pair of heeled booties.

"You look so sexy, Willie," Juliet smirked. "Are you almost ready? It's nearly eight-thirty."

Willow nodded and the two girls made their way into the main room, Bartholomew trailing behind them. Juliet beelined for the kitchen as Willow bent to pick up the grey cat. She made her way towards a barstool as she watched Juliet pour them each a shot of vodka.

"No chaser?" Willow asked.

Juliet scoffed, "Don't be a baby, Willie."

Willow sighed as the two girls clinked their shots together before tapping them on the counter and tossing the liquor down their throats. Juliet's face twisted slightly but remained level as Willow began to cough uncontrollably, causing Bartholomew to leap out of her arms and run away.

Juliet wordlessly grabbed their carton of orange juice and handed it to Willow before pouring them each another shot. She shot her a thankful look before they repeated their previous actions, this time Willow followed her shot with several large gulps of the tangy liquid.

The two of them excitedly chatted about the night in front of them before Juliet glanced at the clock and signaled that it was time to leave. Willow grabbed her coat off the rack and Juliet ran to her room to grab a small present she had tried to hide from Willow. They made their way down to the storage fridge in the back kitchen of the bakery.

Willow had taken the time earlier to not only make Angelina a dark red birthday cake decorated with small, yellow roses, but she had also made ginger biscuits and miniature chocolate éclairs. She slid the cake into a white takeaway box before handing it to Juliet and grabbing the large boxes containing the other treats.

Arms full, they made their way out the front door and down the stairs. After only walking a few feet across the street, they reached the Weasley's apartment door. It had a note taped to the doorknob that read:

ATTENTION PARTY GOERS: PLEASE LET YOURSELF IN. OUR APARTMENT IS STRAIGHT UP THE FLIGHT OF STAIRS AND THE ONLY ONE IN THE BUILDING. IF YOU MISS IT, PLEASE TAKE THE TIME TO TELL US HOW.

They exchanged a nervous glance as Willow felt a pit in her stomach form. She watched Juliet shift the cake to her hip to twist the doorknob. Both girls hurried just inside the door to get out of the harsh winds, where they were met with a singular staircase leading straight up.

As they made their way upwards, the sounds of music and chatter began to grow louder. Willow squeezed Juliet's hand as they reached the top stair and rounded the corner into the main room.

As they stood in the archway, all eyes seem to fall on them before one voice broke through, "Ms. Sweetwood, you brought me more food!"

Willow watched as a shaggy-haired ginger man wearing cat ears broke through the crowd to greet them. She had remembered Fred having the longer hair, but the giant 'G' stitched on his sweater proved otherwise. Willow glanced between his face and sweater before he interrupted her train of thought.

"I'm Fred," he reassured her. "Since we've only just met, I'll give you a pass on not knowing yet."

He grabbed one of the boxes out of Willow's hands as Juliet questioned him, "If you're Fred, why have you got a 'G' on your jumper?"

Fred flicked open the box of éclairs as his eyes widened. Not giving Juliet a chance to press him further, he shoved two in his mouth before wiping his fingers on his jeans and sticking out his hand.

"Any other day, I'm Fred Weasley," he said, mouth full. "But tonight, I am a pussy."

Juliet took his hand as she gave him an extremely bewildered look.

"Are you the kinky friend that Willow told us all about?" he asked, biting into another éclair after he dropped Juliet's hand.

Willow's face grew warm as she sputtered, "I-I did not tell you I had a kinky friend, Fred!"

Juliet grinned, "Actually, I'm okay with that label. I am Willow's kinky friend, Juliet."

"You also used to date Angie, didn't you?"

Juliet's face turned a deep red, "Erm, well. I don't know if we ever really dated, per se..."

Fred grinned, "No judgment here, I'm sure you're wishing you were talking to her anyway. I can help you find her."

Fred closed the box of éclairs before placing it back on top of the other box Willow was already holding. He then grabbed the package containing the cake out of Juliet's hands and also placed it on the growing stack in Willow's arms.

He grinned at both of them, "Ms. Sweetwood will be fine here while I help you look for Angie. I'm sure it's only a matter of time before George appears by her side."

Before Willow was given a chance to protest, Fred patted her head and Juliet kissed her cheek as the two walked into the depths of the party. Willow rolled her eyes as she took the time to glance around the entire place.

The Weasley's apartment was set up very similar to her own, albeit much larger.

The entire floorplan was open, the archway they had entered through lead straight into a rather large den with a small kitchen off to the side. A few couches and chairs were surrounding a roaring fireplace in the middle of the wall closest to her, and there was even room for another small sitting area towards a bay window that looked down on her shop. There was also a rather large dining room table that had been converted into a game of beer pong.

She could see several doors leading down a hallway by the kitchen, which she assumed was comprised of bedrooms and bathrooms. The entire thing was decorated to feel very homey.

She walked towards the large, kitchen island where she placed all three boxes down before moving towards the bay window. She glanced down at her small shop below and took notice of how, if not for the curtains, you could have seen straight into her bedroom.

As she watched the witches and wizards walk along the cobblestones, she caught herself daydreaming of when she was finally able to open her bakery. She began to get misty-eyed as she thought of the crowds of wizards that would one day travel miles just for her cakes.

Willow suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder, forcing her back into reality. She turned at the light touch, and she was met with the gaze of a pair of unexpected soft, brown eyes.

☆☆☆


	8. Wonderland

Willow took a step away, forcing her back against the window. She glanced between the two people in front of her.

"What are you doing here?"

Dean smiled. "I could ask you the same thing."

He pulled Willow into a hug, which she was too in shock to deny. Once the two broke apart she heard the tall, dark-haired girl next to Dean clear her throat.

"Hi," she said, holding out her hand. "My name's Dove. Who are you?"

Willow softly shook her hand, "I'm Willow, nice to meet you. Dean is, uh, one of my old school mates."

Dove smiled as she looked at the other two. "Oh, of course! I should have known, Dean talks about Hogwarts all the bloody time!"

Willow returned her warm smile, but she was still in shock that Dean was standing in front of her. She knew that she'd joked about inviting him, but never did she expect him to be here on his own. From what she remembered, Dean and Angelina were not friends.

"I really wasn't expecting to see you here, Dean," Willow said.

Dove interrupted, "Well he's actually here because of me! Angelina and I are childhood friends."

Dean grinned as he stared down at Dove. He was giving her the same look he gave Willow last weekend.

"Erm, Dove, would you mind going to get me a drink? I want to catch up with Willow," Dean said, placing a hand on Dove's back. "I haven't seen her in ages."

Willow watched as Dove smiled sweetly before pecking him on the cheek and waving at her. Both she and Dean watched until Dove was out of earshot before they turned to each other.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Dean?" Willow started in a hushed tone. "You were in my bed last weekend! But now you've suddenly got a girlfriend?"

Dean rolled his eyes before moving to one of the empty armchairs in the sitting area of the bay window. When Willow didn't move, he motioned to the chair next to his. She rolled her eyes before making her way to the couch on the opposite side of the area.

Dean rubbed his hand on the back of his neck before leaning forward. "She's not my girlfriend, Willie. And I meant what I said last weekend, I still think about you."

"Yes, apparently you do, while you're in bed with other girls!"

"Would you keep your voice down, Willie? You've got it all twisted," he whispered.

Willow leaned forward, "How many times do I have to tell you that do not get to call me Willie anymore, Dean. I don't care that she's not your girlfriend, she clearly has an interest in you so that's not fair to her."

"Willie, you do not understand wha–" Dean began. But he quickly stopped himself as he watched something move above Willow's head.

Before she had a chance to turn around, Willow felt the couch dip next to her. She watched Dean shift his look over before rolling his eyes and leaning back in his chair. She glanced over to see George sitting a couple of feet away from her.

She felt herself instinctively smile as they made eye contact. Just like his brother, he was wearing black cat ears at the top of his head. Except, instead of a lettered jumper like Fred, he was wearing a simple black one, dark jeans, and a pair of black high-tops matched with some striped socks that were peeking out beneath the cuffs on his jeans.

George looked between the two of them before saying, "Am I interrupting something?"

Dean began to open his mouth, but Willow beat him to speaking first. "Not at all! It's nice to see you, George."

George blushed as he smiled back at her. His eyes moved to Dean, who was quietly fuming in his green armchair.

He leaned towards Willow as he said, "What's up his ass?"

Before Willow had a chance to respond, Dean cut in. "There's nothing up my ass, Weasley. I was just in the middle of talking to her before you inserted yourself."

George looked taken aback as he looked to Willow for help. She placed a hand on his knee as she softly smiled.

"I think what Dean meant is that we were talking, but it's a conversation I am no longer interested in having," she said. "What I am interested in is where the bathroom is. Would you mind telling me?"

George grinned as he stood up and offered a hand to Willow. "I can do you one better. I'll take you there myself."

"Oh, well how polite of you," Willow giggled. "What a gracious host you are."

She took George's hand as she stood before turning to Dean, who was watching the whole exchange with disinterest. "Bye, Dean. Tell your girlfriend it was nice meeting her."

She turned to follow George who had begun walking towards the doors down the small hallway next to the kitchen. She couldn't help but feel like a bit of a badass with her finishing line to Dean, a boy who, just last week, she had considered allowing back in her life. However, now, knowing that he was talking to another woman the whole time, she had lost any interest in him that she had once held.

The two of them stopped at the first door on the left of the hallway. George turned to glance at Willow before pushing the door open. He walked into the dark room before reaching to the wall and flipping the switch on. Willow stepped inside as he closed the door behind her.

She looked around at his room, which was messier than expected. A large, unmade bed set against the wall opposite the door and it was flanked by two windows that overlooked Diagon Alley and her shop. He had several shirts covering the floor, which is what he was currently working to try and subtly move, and a large dresser sat next to a door she assumed was the closet to her left.

On her right sat a large desk covered in drawings and notes about future and former products. She could see several burns in the light wood on his desk, and the trash can beneath was overflowing with crumpled bits of parchment. His walls were plastered in family pictures, band and Quidditch posters, and what looked to be patents for things Willow assumed they sold in their shop.

After taking in everything in front of her, she turned to see George stuffing the remaining clothing into his closet before casting a charm on the bed to pull the covers up. He froze when he felt Willow watching him.

"Erm, the bathroom's right through there," he said, pointing to a door behind Willow.

She excused herself and while she was washing her hands she could hear George curse as he tried, seemingly unsuccessfully, to charm the trash away. She pushed open the door just as he was taking a seat in his desk chair. She could still hear the soft sounds of the party happening on the other side of his wall.

George straightened his posture at the sight of her. "If you want, we can hang out in here for a bit? I'm already kind of tired of the party. It was Fred's idea to host."

Willow's heart soared at the idea of spending more time alone with George, so she quickly made her way to his bed. She settled at the end closest to him in a crossed-legged sitting position, careful not to flash him.

"So, are you and Fred supposed to match?" she asked.

George rolled his eyes. "Oh, great. You saw him first," he said, pulling his cat ears off. "No, we're not. It was my idea to be a cat. Since it's such a common girl costume I thought it would be funny. But then Fred heard me talking to Angie about it and had the bright idea to dress as me dressed as a cat. All so he could call himself a pussy."

Willow stifled a laugh as she finally understood the 'G' on Fred's sweater.

"He's a right wanker, that one," he joked. "Shocks me every day that we're related."

"Well, I think you look better than your brother, George," Willow stated. "A black cat is easier to understand than Fred telling you he's a pussy. Kinda makes him look bad, don't you think?"

George smirked. "I appreciate the sentiment. Now, what're you supposed to be, Ms. Sweetwood?"

Willow shook her head at the use of the nickname, but responded, "I'm supposed to be Alice, from a muggle book called Alice in Wonderland."

George furrowed his eyebrows. "I'm not much for reading, let alone a muggle book, so I guess I'll take your word on that one."

Willow laughed as she opened her mouth to explain, but didn't get the chance as George's next words tumbled out.

"Why haven't you written me back?"

Willow felt her face grow warm as her body tensed. She wasn't expecting George to call her out so quickly into the night.

"W-well you're the one that told me to use an owl next time I write!" she retorted. "Not all of us have booming businesses they can trust alone just yet."

George's eyes widened, "No, I didn't mean it in a mean way! I just thought I had done something to you. I dunno..."

Willow smiled. "I'm messing with you, mate. I mean, I really didn't have time this week to send a letter by an owl as you asked. I wanted to write to you though."

George grinned back at her. "Well, maybe next time you could just stop by the store if you wanted to chat? I could make time away from my 'booming business' for you."

"Well, in that case maybe you should be the one to take time away and visit me," she asserted. "I've only got two employees so far, and when they're not there things can get lonely."

"Well, what about that roommate of yours you said was moving in?"

"Her name's Juliet, you probably know who she is," Willow responded. "She and Angelina used to date, or talk or something, at Hogwarts, which is why I'm here. But, anyway, she works at the Cauldron and hates to bake. Not much help there."

George laughed as he ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to smooth it. "Well, I'm not much for baking, but I can try to keep you company," he quipped.

Willow watched as a lightbulb seemed to go off in George's mind before he spun his chair around to face his desk. He quickly grabbed a piece of parchment out of his desk and a quill before beginning to frivolously scribble on it. Willow craned her neck in an attempt to see what he was doing.

As fast as he had begun writing, he stopped. She watched him scratch his head before scrawling out a few more words and turning back to her, eyes wide.

"Sorry about that," he sheepishly said. "Something you said gave me a brilliant idea for a new product. It's something I may even need your help on, but I've got a few more kinks to work out first."

Willow raised her eyebrow. "You want my help with a product?"

George smirked, "Don't get too excited yet. You'll have to give me a few more days to work on it and talk to Fred, but you may be hearing from me again soon."

Willow softly smiled, but before she was given a chance to agree, George's bedroom door flew open. Standing in the doorway was Angelina, dressed in a flowy white dress and a crooked halo, and Juliet. They exchanged a look between the two of them.

"See, Angie? I told you we'd end up finding them together."

Willow rolled her eyes at Juliet's comment before standing up to greet Angelina. The two girls hugged as Willow wished her a 'happy birthday.'

"Willow! It's so nice to see you again," Angelina gushed as they pulled away. "Jules showed me your cake, it looks smashing! I can't wait for you to open your bakery up. I want to be your first customer."

Willow blushed as the three girls chatted for a few more moments before Angelina's eyes flitted to George, who had turned back to his desk.

"Weasley! What the hell are you doing locking our poor Willow in your room with you?"

George turned at the sound of his name. "I am not forcing her to be here! She has free will to leave when she wants."

Angelina scoffed. "Well, in that case, both of you come on," she said, grabbing Willow's hand. "It's my birthday and I want both of you to come and play Butterbeer pong with Julie and me."

"But–"

"No buts, Weasley. It's my party and I demand you get off your ass and enjoy yourself," Angelina said, turning on her heel and dragging Willow out of the room.

Juliet followed behind them as George slowly stood as well. He flicked the light off in his room before closing the door and meeting them at the currently occupied pong table.

"FREDRIC GIDEON WEASLEY IF YOU DON'T PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER I'M FINDING A NEW TEAMMATE!" a loud voice boomed from the opposite side of the dining table.

Willow watched as Fred tossed a small, orange ball toward the single cup sitting across from him. It came nowhere near the cup, instead, it sailed straight off the end of the table. One of the girls standing behind it reached down to pick it up as the man standing next to Fred quietly fumed.

"I wasn't a bloody chaser for a reason, mate!" Fred defended. "If you're so good, why don't you win us the game?"

The man was a great deal shorter than Fred, although he carried himself with a sense of tallness. He had a rather large black velvet bow perched at the top of his head and dark dreads fell to just above his shoulders. He was wearing a magenta shawl on top of a fuzzy pink jumper paired with some ironed khaki slacks.

Willow knew in an instant who he was supposed to be dressed as and couldn't help the loud laugh that escaped her lips. The group of people at the table turned their attention to her as she froze.

"Ah, I see you found the lovebirds, Angie," Fred joked.

Willow's eyes widened as they found Juliet's a few feet away. She shot her a confused glance that Juliet answered with a shrug. Willow had a feeling she knew more than she was letting on, but couldn't press her further when they were surrounded by people she didn't know.

Willow watched as George moved to his twin where he smacked the back of his head. "Finish your game, twat. Angelina wants to play."

Fred rubbed the spot where George had hit him before smacking him on the chest. George held up his hand to respond but was cut off when Fred's pong partner grabbed his shirt collar.

"Go away, George. I'm trying to win a game," he stated.

George flicked his brother's ear and scooted away before Fred had a chance to retaliate. He appeared by Willow's side in a flash, laughing. She smiled up at him.

"Who is that with Fred?" she asked.

George's laughter slowed as he responded, "That's one of our best mates, Lee Jordan. He works in the shop with us, lives here, too."

She wasn't a huge Quidditch fan, but Juliet had dragged her to more than a few games over the years when Angelina was on the team. Lee had been the announcer during a few of them, which is why Willow knew she had recognized his voice from somewhere.

"You'll have to introduce me," she smiled. "And who is that they're playing against?"

"Oh, that's Katie Bell and her, I think, girlfriend. Not sure of her name, though."

Angelina's head appeared from behind them. "Her name's Virginia, real nice girl. I hope they beat Lee and Freddie."

Juliet laughed as she came to join the conversation. "Angie and I were talking. We're thinking the two of us play the two of you in the next game. Sounds good?"

Willow placed a hand on her chest. "Oh, I haven't played pong since seventh year. I'm not sure how great I'll be."

Juliet shot her a warning look. "If I remember correctly, you're going to do just fine. Plus, George can always help you out," she winked.

Willow's face grew warm as Angelina and Juliet exchanged a knowing look. She turned her attention back to the current game of Butterbeer pong to see Katie's final ping-pong ball sail into the last cup.

She looked on as Lee let out a string of curse words in response to his defeat before sheepishly shaking the hands of the victors. Fred was too busy bent over in laughter to shake their hands, which Lee responded to by kicking him.

As the two men continued to argue, Katie turned to the waiting group, "I think Virginia and I are going to mingle, so you lot are welcome to take over."

All four of them shot her a smile as the two girls walked away, hand-in-hand. Fred rounded the table as he wiped tears away from his eyes. Lee trudged behind him but quickly perked up as he noticed Willow next to George.

"Oh, hello, gorgeous. Lee Jordan's the name," he crooned, taking Willow'd hand to kiss it. "You must be the wondrous Willow I've heard so much about."

Willow heard George groan next to her as she laughed at Lee's comment. "Based on what I've heard, it seems like I'm talked about a lot," she retorted.

"Oh, well if you'd like the dirty gossip–" Lee began.

But he was cut off as George clapped a hand on his back and pulled him away from her. Lee started to argue, but George cut him off by casting a silencing charm on him. Willow watched as Lee's mouth continued to move, however, no words came out. As realization took over, Lee's lips began to move faster and Willow could only make out the occasional "idiot" and "fuck."

George turned to the group as Fred doubled over in laughter again. "Alright. So me and Willow versus you two! Let's–Lee did you just spit on me?"

He whipped around to see a very smug Lee flipping him off. Juliet, Angelina, and even Willow now couldn't help but join Fred in his laughter as George began to chase a mute Lee through their people-filled apartment.

While that was happening, the other four began to set up new plastic cups, filling each of them partway up with a can of Butterbeer. Fred helped Willow arrange her ten cups into a triangle on one side of the table.

George had now chased Lee into what Willow assumed to be Lee's bedroom. She could hear crashes coming from the other side of the wall every few moments as the two continued to argue.

"They're probably in there wrestling is my guess," Fred said, leaning into Willow. "All that because Lee wanted to tell you how much George talks about you."

Willow looked up at Fred as she watched his eyes widen with the acknowledgment of what had just slipped out of his mouth.

"Forget I said that," he said hastily. "Want me to be your partner until George is finished with Lee?"

Fred's words rang loudly in her ears as she slowly nodded her head. It was clear he wasn't going to answer any questions she had, so she chose to try and push the thoughts of George talking about her away.

The game moved along swiftly. Fred and Willow had already sunk three out of the ten required cups. He had explained to her that he was purposely messing up in his former round to piss off Lee. This meant she had to admit that he was rather skilled at the game.

Willow tossed the second ping-pong ball towards the pyramid, but it bounced on the top and rolled off the table. She went chasing after it, but it rolled to a stop at George's feet as he stepped out of the bedroom. He bent down to pick it up before tossing it to her.

"Where'd Lee go?" she questioned. "I was interested to hear the rest of what he had to say."

George shook his head. "I accidentally busted his lip, so I think he's in the bathroom cleaning himself off," he said. "Uh, if you're not too keen on my brother, maybe I can be your partner for the rest of the game?"

Willow smiled up at him as she played with the purple pong ball in her hand. "I'd like that a lot."

George beamed at her before Willow turned to lead him back into the main area. As he walked up to Fred to relieve him of his duties, Willow's chest began to tighten. She switched her direction to beeline for Juliet and Angelina.

"I am freaking out," she whispered breathlessly. "Lee and Fred keep dropping hints that George talks about me a lot and I don't know how to react because what if they're just messing with me? What if this is all just some sort of social experiment for a prank of theirs? They're trying to see how far they can string along some stupid girl that doesn't know any better, and they're gonna dump a vat of pig's blood on me tonight after I'm tricked into thinking I won–"

"Oh, my Merlin, Willie! Take a breath for goodness sake!" Angelina asserted as she placed a light hand on Willow's shoulder. "What is she on about, babe?"

Juliet sighed, "She's talking about some muggle book she's been reading. At the end of the story, the main character gets a bucket of blood dumped on them or something."

Angelina began to rub calming circles on Willow's upper back as she attempted to subside the oncoming panic attack Willow felt rising in her chest.

"Lina, would you excuse us for a moment?" Juliet said, grabbing Willow's hand. "I think I need to talk some sense into her. Tell George for us, won't you?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Willow saw Angelina nod her head before Juliet led her out a door in the bay window area she hadn't noticed. Willow stumbled out onto a small, empty balcony with a few chairs. A couple of cigarette butts and empty beer cans were strewn across the floor.

Juliet rolled her eyes at the mess before she forced Willow into a lawn chair. She bent down in front of her as she began softly rubbing her knee.

No matter how hard Willow tried, she couldn't seem to get enough air in her lungs to satisfy her needs. She didn't know what had suddenly come over her, but she was happy to be outside in the fresh air. However, she felt terrible for leaving George alone after she had just agreed to play with him. If he didn't like her before, he was surely going to be over her now.

"Willow?"

Juliet's soft voice broke her out of the spiraling prison her mind was becoming. She looked up at her friend, tears partially blocking her view, as she wiped her fingers along the bottom of her eyes, careful to not smudge the mascara.

"Willow, what has changed in the last hour?" Juliet questioned. "You seemed so happy with George when Angelina and I found you both."

Willow sniffled. "Well, for starters, Dean is here."

Juliet shifted to sit on the ground in front of Willow before responding. "Yes I saw him snuggled up with some bitch earlier on. Haven't seen them in a while, though. So what's the real reason? Because I know you're not about to let a guy like Dean ruin your whole evening."

"I think I really like him, Jules," she whispered.

Juliet gasped, "You like Dean?"

Willow let out a laugh. "Oh my, Merlin, no. I was talking about George."

Juliet let out a soft sound of approval as Willow continued.   
"I still feel like this is too soon to say, but there's just something about him that makes my heart soar. Even just being around him makes my entire mood shift," she sighed. "And I think I got scared of feeling like that. And also fear that he may not feel the same was banging around in my stupid brain. So it just became very overwhelming, and now here we are."

Juliet laughed. "Willow, I think it's safe to say that George just beat Lee up for almost telling you that he has a crush on you. He likes you back. You and I both know that you're just letting your mind get the best of you," she soothed. "I'm perfectly content with staying out here as long as needed, but I know that you'd rather be back inside."

Willow nodded as she took a few deep breaths to calm herself. Juliet pulled her wand out and wordlessly cast a cleaning spell on the black make-up streaking down Willow's face.

The two girls then exchanged a smile before standing up to make their way back inside.

☆☆☆


	9. Paranoid

A few hours had passed since their time on the balcony. The game of pong had been finished by Angelina, Fred, and Lee by the time Willow and Juliet had made it back inside. Willow thought that meant she had lost her chance at hanging out with George, but that didn't seem to be the case.

The group of them had continued to chat for the remaining time spent at the party. Willow was enjoying getting to know not only George but Fred and Lee, too. The three of them had kept everyone laughing the entire time and Willow didn't want it any other way.

Juliet and Angelina had disappeared periodically to "go get a drink" only to return with smudged make-up and messy hair. Willow was so thrilled to see Juliet happy with Angelina that she didn't mind being left alone with the boys.

She had also had to continuously avoid eye contact with Dean, who seemed to be much more interested in her than she was in him. She felt herself being watched for the majority of the night but elected to ignore the feeling.

Willow had also been consistently drinking the entire night. She was now on her third "Jordan Juice," a drink that Lee insisted on making everyone. None of them were quite sure what was in it, but everyone in the group was enjoying the fizzy contents of their plastic cups.

The six of them were now sat in the bay window area laughing as Fred and George retold the several stories of Lee trying to ask Angelina out throughout their years at Hogwarts. Any previous fears were thrown out the window as she watched George animatedly describe what had happened.

She loved the way that he talked with his entire body. His whole being came alive when he was placed in front of a group of people, no matter the size. His eyes would grow wide as he included each minute detail of whatever story he and Fred elected to tell.

She would see the corner of his mouth turn upwards in a smirk as he watched his brother talk, often finishing his sentences. And the only times he seemed to miss an opportunity to make a joke was when he was too busy blushing after he would catch Willow staring.

But all of this was forgotten as Lee's next words registered in her ears.

"Well, I think it's the perfect time to introduce something a little more interesting into the atmosphere, Angie!" Lee defended.

Willow quickly tuned back into the conversation as Angelina rolled her eyes. "What are we, sixteen?" she scoffed. "This isn't the Gryffindor common room, Lee."

"Of course it isn't. There are 'puffs amongst us," Fred interjected.

Juliet responded, "Is that supposed to be an insult, Weasley?"

Fred raised an eyebrow. "Are we already close enough to call each other nicknames, Julie?"

"Both of you stop flirting," Angelina cut in, rolling her eyes.

Each of them opened their mouths to argue but quickly recoiled as Angelina challenged them with a look. As Juliet sunk back into the couch she was sharing with Angelina, Willow took the time to question what was happening.

"I must have missed it, what exactly has Lee suggested we do?" she asked.

Lee smirked. "I would like to play a game. I was over in America visiting family a few months back and my cousins introduced me to this wicked fun one."

"Do we have enough people to play?" George questioned.

Willow turned her attention to the rest of the living room. Most of the party had left, except for another small group of people chatting around the fireplace. She saw one person, in particular, sitting with his back to her, making her breath hitch in her throat.

As she turned her body back to the group, George looked at her from the opposite end of the couch they shared. He scooted a few inches closer before leaning into her ear.

"You're looking worried again, is everything okay?" he whispered where only she could hear.

Willow felt her anxiety melt as goosebumps rippled across her body. As George leaned back to study her face, she smiled up at him.

"I'm fine," she mouthed back. He gave her face a once over as if searching for the real answer but decided to not push further as he turned his attention back to the group.

She knew she had lied to him, but it wasn't like she was about to recount her adventures in bed last weekend so he could understand the full story.

"Hey! Willow! Eyes on me, please," Lee said, snapping his fingers in her direction. "I am trying to explain my amazing game."

Willow stuck out her tongue at him as she leaned forward to mock hanging on his every word.

"Okay, as I was saying, the game is called Paranoia," Lee continued after sticking his tongue out at Willow. "We all sit in a cute little circle and each person takes a turn whispering a question of their choice in the person to their left's ear. Then that person has to say aloud who they think the answer is.

"For example, if Juliet asked Angie who the hottest person in the room is, she'd say me. But, here's the kicker, if I wanted to know what the question Juliet asked was, we flip a Galleon. If I win, Angie has to admit the question."

Juliet cocked her head. "So, is it like questions about the people in the circle?"

Lee nodded his head. "Yeah, yeah. It's a question that you'd answer with the name of someone in the circle. It can be a 'most likely to' or 'best blank' anything like that," he said. "So are we playing?"

The group murmured in agreement before Lee stood up to walk toward the small crowd on the other side of the room. Willow's eyes grew wide as she watched him before she whipped her head back.

"W-where's he going?" she sputtered.

Fred responded, "He didn't think that six people was enough. Said something about making it more interesting by adding that group."

Willow turned to watch as Lee explained the game to the other group of seven near the fireplace. She saw all of them nodding along as she turned back to put her head in her hands.

She felt a hand softly touch her back, causing her head to pop up. George was bent over with his head level with hers. He looked thoroughly concerned with what was happening inside Willow's brain.

She weakly smiled at him but wasn't given a chance to explain as Lee began to loudly clap to get everyone's attention. All conversation ceased as the whole room turned their attention to him.

"Ahem, in the words of my favorite Hogwarts professor, and who I modeled my clothing after tonight, I will have order," Lee said, curtseying. "And the order I want is for us to play this fucking game. Let's go!"

Everyone rose from their seats as they began to move all of the couches and armchairs into a central circle in the middle of the room. Many of them grabbed another slice of the cake Willow made or a beer from the separate beverage fridge in the kitchen.

During the chaos, Willow excused herself to the hall bathroom. She took the time to calm herself in the mirror. She stared at herself for a few moments, listening to the chatter mixing with the scraping of the couches on the wooden flooring.

She felt freaked out to still have Dean in the same room as her. She didn't know it was possible to lose feelings so quickly for a guy until she saw him with Dove. Willow didn't know the extent of their relationship, but she had a feeling she was making the right decision in pushing him off. Still, she couldn't help but acknowledge that her heart skipped a beat every time she caught him looking at her.

After taking a few more calming breaths, she made her way back to the living room to rejoin the party. As she stepped into the kitchen, she made her way to the fridge. If she was going to play this game, Willow needed a little more alcohol in her system to cope.

She cracked open the icy can of Dragon's Brew as she turned to face the group. Beer was not usually Willow's first choice, but the amber lager tasted the slightest bit of caramel, making her mouth water for more. As she took a large gulp, she surveyed the group in front of her.

Everyone had already chosen their seats in the circle, leaving Willow only a space between a girl she didn't recognize and George. She rolled her eyes at the idea that it was most likely done on purpose, however, she wouldn't complain.

Willow made her way to the spot on the couch as Lee began to address the group. "Alright you lot, now that we're all back it's time to get the real party started," he said, clasping his hands in front of him. "Although, I'm sure we don't all know each other so let's have a quick introductory round before we jump into things."

The group of thirteen spent the next several minutes introducing themselves to everyone. Willow learned she was in a circle with George, Angelina, Juliet, Fred, and Lee, of course. But also Katie Bell, Katie's girlfriend Virginia, Dove, Dean, Alicia Spinnet, her husband Parker, and the girl to Willow's left was called Claudia.

"Lee, I'm not sure how smoothly this is going to go," Juliet spoke up. "I don't know half these people."

Lee rolled his eyes. "Well, then I guess you won't say them as answers, Julie."

Juliet flipped him off before settling back into her shared loveseat with Angelina.

"So unless anyone else has a problem with my game, let's get started," Lee announced. "I'll go first."

He leaned in to whisper a short question into Fred's ear. She watched as Fred eyed the members of the group with a mischievous glint in his eye.

He cleared his throat before stating, "Dove."

Dove's body straightened as she heard her name. "Me already?"

Fred smirked at her as Dean draped a protective arm on her shoulders, pulling her into his body. The group watched the coin flip in Fred's hand.

"Heads. Sorry, Dove. That's just the name of the game," he shrugged.

The game continued smoothly from there. Willow was having much more fun than she anticipated. There were silly questions mixed with spicier questions. She felt as though she may have been learning a little too much about the inner workings of everyone's brains.

Some of her favorite moments were how offended Fred would get every time his name was used as an answer, but he couldn't argue with the majority of the questions after they were revealed.

He would be most likely to get a matching tattoo with a girl after the first date. In fact, he revealed the delicate vine tattoo that wrapped around his bicep, which matched with a girl he hadn't spoken to in months.

She had also learned a little too much about what Lee enjoyed in bed after he was said to be secretly the kinkiest member of the group. George had to threaten to cast another silencing charm on him to make him stop talking about having a guy drag a knife along his body as he was bound and gagged.

Willow had wished they'd made him stop after the whipped cream story was so delicately told, but it seemed as though the majority of the group was too intoxicated to care.

Juliet and Angelina had gotten voted most likely to get married young, which made them both attempt to hide their faces in the other's chest.

Willow was loving the sense of happiness that radiated off of Juliet now that she was reunited with Angelina. Even seeing how things ended for them in Hogwarts, Willow always had a feeling they'd find their way back to each other. Soulmates always do.

Her attention was drawn back to the game in front of her as Willow watched Angelina whisper her question into George's ear. It didn't take even half a second for him to think before he had blurted out Willow's name.

Her eyes widened. She felt her breathing stop as she watched the coin flip midair and land in George's hand.

"Yes! It's Dragon, Weasley," Angelina teased. "Allow me to tell everyone the question I asked."

Willow glanced between a smug Angelina and a blushing George before raising her eyebrows for Angelina to continue.

"I have asked Mr. George Weasley here who he'd most like to shag," she bragged.

She felt the pit in her stomach grow three sizes as Angelina's words hammered in her brain. George had just said he wanted to shag her?

Well, of course, he did. Willow was one of the only single girls in the room, so she must have been his only option. Claudia had been pining after Fred all night, and no one was fully sure of Dean and Dove's real relationship. This left George stuck with Willow.

She shifted her gaze upwards where she was met with those soft, brown eyes she loved to hate. Dove was too busy chatting with Virginia and Katie to notice her date's balled fists as he looked between Willow and George. She couldn't stand to look at him for much longer, so she turned her attention to Juliet.

She watched as she spoke in a hushed, yet excited tone to both Fred and Angelina. Seeming to feel Willow's eyes on her, Juliet looked up. She gave Willow a small smile and a big thumbs up. These actions were the reason why Willow suddenly felt more comfortable with George's revelation.

Who cared if she may have been the only option? She didn't even know if George saw the group the same way as her. George still chose her, and she would choose him, too.

She finally turned her attention to the man sitting next to her, emotions high. Since they had been playing for several rounds, Willow was now on her second beer. The same bubbly feeling from last weekend was beginning to rise in her belly as she made eye contact with George.

His eyes seemed to darken as he cleared his throat to get the rest of the group's attention.

"Okay, mates. Now that we've had a little fun at my expense," he said, turning his attention to Willow. "I think it's my turn to ask a question."

Willow's heartbeat quickened as George softly grabbed her chin to move her ear closer to his mouth.

"I hope you're smart in answering this one, love," he smirked into her ear. "Who's the funniest one in the room?"

Willow felt her face warm as she turned to steal a glance at George, she had a feeling that he had wanted to ask a different question, but was challenging her in a way that only she would understand.

She scanned the faces of the circle before she smiled to herself as she turned back to him and said, "I'll have to go with Lee."

George feigned hurt as Lee cheered. She turned her attention to the coin in her hand as she tossed it in the air. It landed with a thump as she called out "Heads" to the rest of the group.

Lee began to argue, but everyone in the circle quickly shut him down, using his own rules against him. He sighed in his armchair before waving a hand in the air to signal that they could continue.

Willow laughed as she racked her brain for a question to ask Claudia. She still didn't know much about the girl except that she thought Fred was the most attractive in the group. As she decided on the first question to pop into her head, she felt a strong arm settle along the top of the cushions behind her head.

"Who would make the best couple in the group?" she whispered into Claudia's ear.

It didn't take the blonde girl long to contemplate before she responded with, "I think that it's Willow and Dean."

Willow felt the temperature in her body drop as the words washed over her. She quickly turned her head to see the Galleon in Claudia's hand land Dragon side up.

"What was the question, Willow," George teased, nudging her in the side.

She threw her worried gaze to Juliet, who looked just as confused as the rest of the group before choking out a soft, "I asked her who'd make the best couple."

Juliet's hand flew to her mouth as the rest of the group discussed the answer in hushed whispers. Willow felt George's arm retract to his side. Before she was given a chance to say anything, Claudia interrupted.

"Have I said something wrong?" she questioned. "I only said it because Dean's been looking at her all night. I thought it was cute..."

"No you haven't, dear," Juliet began. "Just a contr–"

Her sentence was cut off by a loud Crack! sounding from the opposite side of the circle. The group shifted their attention to the now-empty seat next to Dean.

"You can all mind your business," Dean huffed. "Especially you, Weasley."

As Dean pointed his finger at George, both twins stood up in defense.

"Oh, just like you wanted to mind my sister's business?" George spat out. "Leading her, and it turns out Willow, on for bloody years?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "You don't even know what you're talking about, mate," he spat out. "Enjoy shagging Willie. I can tell you from experience she's bloody great."

With a final wink towards Willow, Dean Apparated out of the apartment, leaving the rest of the group in shock.

"Alright, I think that's where we should end the game, folks," Lee said, breaking the pregnant silence. "Happy birthday, Angelina."

☆☆☆


	10. Rum and Orange

Willow thumbed through the small box of notecards as she searched for the recipe she was looking for. She caught the faded piece of paper with her pointer finger as she slid it out of its spot in the back of the box.   
It was the morning after the party, so Willow was using her free day to bake whatever she wanted. She skimmed over the recipe in her hand as if she had never seen it before. Willow already knew how to make the cookies from memory, but something about being able to glance over her Nana’s handwriting as she baked made her feel calm.   
Which is exactly what she needed after last night, a sense of calm.   
She began to gather the five ingredients needed to make her favorite cookies, chocolate shortbread. There was something about them that made Willow happy. She didn’t know if it was the memories of making them with her grandmother or just the idea of taking a typically simplistic cookie, like plain shortbread, and adding a twist of difference. But she loved them no matter what.  
She plugged in her stand mixer before dumping the required butter and sugar into the large glass bowl. As she turned on the mixer and listened to the soft whir, Willow began thinking back on last night.  
Even though she had been drinking, Willow remembered every moment after Dean had made his dramatic exit.   
She had spent the majority of her night after the dramatics attempting to comfort Claudia. Fred had also seemed to want to make sure the girl was okay. Willow was pretty sure she even saw the two of them head towards his bedroom as she was leaving.   
It was an unusual way to comfort someone, but if it made Claudia feel better, Willow wasn’t one to judge. She was probably even a little jealous of her. Not that she wanted to spend a night with Fred, but just that Claudia didn’t have to be alone all night.  
The timed mixer came to a stop as Willow reached for the measured flour, salt, and cocoa powder she had arranged on the counter. She sifted each ingredient into the bowl before flipping the switch back on.   
Even though Willow didn’t know Claudia, she felt guilty for accidentally getting her involved in an issue she originally had nothing to do with.   
Although, Willow had to remind herself that it only seemed to be an issue in Dean’s world. She had made it clear from the beginning of running into him that she was interested in nothing more than a one-night hookup.   
But, still, she couldn’t help but blame herself partially for everything that had happened. It isn’t like she knew what would come out of deciding to have sex with Dean the weekend before, but she also had to point out that she would have ended up seeing Dean regardless at the party. However, who’s to say that Dean wouldn’t have just transferred what he said to her last weekend to last night.  
Willow still didn’t know if his words had any merit. And there was a large part of her that couldn’t help but wonder if that was bad a thing. If what he had said had no real meaning then it meant she didn’t have to bother herself with him.   
But she also worried that if he did mean what he said, it would cause her to fall back into old habits she didn’t know if she liked anymore. Her relationship with Dean was not one she enjoyed dwelling on, especially since it had been years since it had ended.  
She flipped the switch on her mixer as she took a few pinches of flour out of the nearby bag. She sprinkled the powder across the counter before dumping the sturdy dark dough out of the bowl. As she began to knead, her train of thought turned back to him.   
There was always a part of her that had longed for closure. From the moment she saw him with Ginny, Willow didn’t want Dean to be back in her life. But looking at him again, more grown-up and slightly more mature, caused a feeling in her stomach to stir.   
But for every thought that crossed her mind about Dean, there were six about George. She hadn’t been able to forget what had happened mere minutes before the ending of the party.   
Willow felt her body tingle as she remembered Angelina’s words. George had admitted to wanting to sleep with her. She only worried that his opinion could have changed after seeing what she was still involved in.   
Willow, as cleanly as possible, tore off a sheet of plastic wrap to encase her kneaded dough inside of. Then she placed it in the fridge before grabbing the copy of her latest muggle book and making her way to the front of the store to let her dough chill.   
She settled in one of the overstuffed armchairs that she had positioned by one of the large windows that faced towards the Weasely’s store as she cracked open the book. She could see flashes of red and black hair moving swiftly around inside, but no one stopped long enough for her to tell who was who.  
Willow hadn’t seen George for the rest of the time she spent in their apartment last night. But she wasn’t upset about that. She couldn’t bear to look at him after it had been her fault the party was ruined.  
It had been an ongoing battle in her mind for the last twelve hours over whether or not she should reach out to any of the involved parties. She didn’t want the reason her friendship with George was ruined to be Dean. But she also didn’t necessarily want her relationship with Dean to be over either.   
It was clear that the latter had a lot of unsolved issues within his mind. She still didn’t know how Dean saw Dove, but it was clear by the way she reacted last night that Dove saw Dean as more than he saw her. Willow wasn’t sure that she wanted to get involved in anything like that.  
But that was the problem, Willow didn’t know.  
She didn’t know how to feel about anyone. And, possibly, more importantly, she didn’t know how anyone felt about her.   
Willow just wished she didn’t have to be alone right now. She had ended up leaving before Juliet did last night, and she had awoken to an empty apartment. There was an obvious reason to believe that Juliet had gone somewhere with Angelina afterward, but it was unusual for her to disappear without telling Willow anything.   
Baking always made Willow feel better though. It was an opportunity for her to be alone with her thoughts. And with everything she’d been doing since she moved in, she hadn’t gotten a chance to make whatever she wanted to in the kitchen.  
Willow was also thinking about heading out to a muggle grocery store later so that she could cook herself dinner the next few nights. She had a sneaking suspicion it was just going to be her and Bartholomew for the while.   
She continued to read the same sentence in her book over and over again. There was too much distraction for her to be able to properly read the book. So she elected to place it on the large window sill next to her as she continued to look out the window.  
One of her favorite pastimes since she bought the storefront had become people watching. She loved to imagine the background stories of every witch and wizard that passed by her window. It was amazing to think that everyone was experiencing the same world from a different viewpoint.   
Her father often told Willow that she had a problem with romanticizing the littlest things in life. But it was a ‘problem’ that Willow didn’t mind. She would rather live her life seeing the good in people than the bad.  
She continued staring at the various people walking, running, and skipping along the cobblestones until she saw the postal owls get released from the building down the alley. Willow’s eyes followed them in the air until she saw one curve downwards.   
She watched the darkly colored owl approach her front door before her mail slot shot open as a stack of envelopes forced their way in. She glanced between the owl and the mail before the former took off with the rest of the letters it had hooked in its claws.  
Willow walked to the door where she picked up the bundled stack before making her way back to her armchair. She read over the envelope at the top, which was written in an unfamiliar handwriting, but heard her timer go off in the kitchen before she had a chance to open it.   
After placing her mail in her seat as she got up, Willow made her way back to the kitchen. Once she had flipped the oven on, she opened the fridge to grab the hardened dough before turning back to the counter where she dusted it lightly with flour.   
She unwrapped the dough and let it drop onto the counter before reaching into the nearest drawer to grab a rolling pin. Pressing the pin into the dough, she began attempting to roll it into a flatter, more manageable shape. Once it had reached the thickness Willow desired, she pulled out her favorite metal cookie cutter.  
After searching through her cabinets as she, once more, made a mental note to label them, she pulled out a roll of wax paper and a sheet pan. She used a nearby knife to cut an even sheet off the roll before placing it along the bottom of her pan.   
Continuing to hum to herself, Willow began to cut out several star-shaped cookies. She placed each one carefully on the tray as she re-kneaded the dough each time it had run out of space.   
Once the cookies were safely in the oven, she pressed a few buttons on her timer as she made her way back to the front. She placed the hand-held timer where she could hear it and picked up the stack of envelopes as she settled back into her armchair.  
Tucking her legs underneath her, she began tearing open the first envelope. As she placed the rest of the mail on the floor, she noticed a familiar orange envelope sticking out of the bottom. Her heart skipped a beat as realization took over, but she wanted to save the special one for last.   
She read over the various bills and advertisements before reaching down to grab the last envelope that separated her from the orange one. Tearing her eyes away from it, she gasped as she spotted the familiar handwriting at the front of the letter in her hand.   
She ran a finger under the edge of the opening and unfolded the letter as a mix of rum and orange wafted towards her nose. The letter read:  
Willie,  
We need to talk about last night. I need to see you because you know that wasn’t like me. I’m free tomorrow night so please write me back to let me know where’d you like to meet. If I don’t hear back from you, I’ll just come to the bakery. This is important, Willie.   
Dean xx  
Out of habit and stress, Willow cracker her knuckles as she contemplated what the letter had said. She cursed herself for allowing Dean to know where she lived since this now meant there didn’t seem to be a way for her to avoid a conversation with him. He was going to bother her no matter what.  
As she continued to mull over what to do, she grabbed the last envelope with, just like always, ‘Ms. Sweetwood’ scribbled across the front. She smiled to herself as she glanced across the street to watch their joke shop for a few more fleeting moments. She was more worried about this letter since it could contain words that ruined a relationship before it was even given a chance at starting.   
Willow pushed her worries deep inside as she broke open the purple wax seal and unfolded the letter. It read:  
Dear Willow,  
I wanted to say sorry for not saying goodbye last night. What Dean said didn’t sit right with me, and I’m sorry for bringing you into my problems with him. I swear if I see him anytime soon it won’t be pretty.  
Anyway, I hope that wasn’t the last time I get to see you. I wasn’t kidding about working on a product with you. Me and Freddie were talking this morning, and I think this could really be a hit. Maybe even a way to help promote your bakery? We could push the release date to February, and  
Alright, I’m beginning to ramble and I haven’t got much parchment left. So, again, I’m sorry. And I hope you still want to work with us. Write me back to tell me, no owl required.   
George   
(your neighbor)  
All of her previous worries melted away as she reread the letter a few more times. It was becoming a common trend for George to make her calm.   
She smiled to herself as she picked up all of the mail once her timer had gone off. Dean’s letter still loomed in the back of her head, but she wanted to focus on the positives for now. As she walked into the kitchen, she placed both letters on the counter before grabbing her oven mitts.  
Right as she was placing her freshly baked cookies on the wire rack to cool, Willow heard the bell above her front door sound. Her head shot up as she instinctively turned to grab her wand the laid on the counter behind her.   
She swung around, wand at the ready, as the swing door that connected the kitchen to the front was pushed open.  
“Oh, Jesus!” Juliet yelped. “Why have you got your wand out? Gonna hex me for entering my home?”  
Willow sighed as she placed a hand on her chest where she could feel her heart quickly beating. “Oh, my Merlin, Jules,” she sighed. “You scared the shit out of me.”  
Juliet laughed as she made her way towards the cookies in front of Willow. She reached her hand towards one on the outskirts, but Willow slapped the hand away before she could snatch one. Juliet rubbed her hand as she glared down at Willow.  
“Those are cooling, mind you,” she stated. “Now where the hell have you been? I haven’t seen or heard from you in hours. The least you could do was leave a note or something.”  
“Well, after a certain someone decided to make the party all about him, I felt bad leaving Angie all alone on her birthday,” Juliet explained. “So I ended up going back to her dad’s place to hang out.”  
Willow scoffed, “Oh, yes. I’m sure you were doing a lot of ‘hanging out’ while you were there, Jules.”  
Juliet feigned hurt as she placed a hand on her chest. “Are you slut-shaming me, Willow? How dare you infer I was doing anything else but comforting a dear, old friend of mine.”  
The two girls laughed at the interaction before Willow continued, “You seem really happy, Jules. I know you’ve only just seen her for a night, but you’re like a whole different person.”  
Juliet began playing with a strand of hair. “I’m glad to hear you say that,” she started. “Because I think I may spend the rest of the weekend and maybe part of next week at Angelina’s house. That’s why I’m here, to collect some things.”  
Willow rolled her eyes at Juliet’s bashful behavior. “I am not your mother. You can do whatever you want, you know right?”  
Juliet laughed as she came around the counter to engulf Willow in a hug. “You really are the best, Willie. I’m gonna run upstairs to pack a bag and say goodbye to my son.”  
Willow hugged her back as she nodded her head. She had always secretly wished for a cat, so she had no qualms about taking care of Bartholomew for a few days.   
As Juliet turned to run upstairs, the stack of mail on the counter caught her eye. Willow’s eyes widened as she reached for the top letters, but Juliet was too quick for her. She had them out of reach in seconds as Willow struggled against her arm.  
“Why in the bloody hell is Dean writing you after what he had to say last night?” she spat out. “You’re not gonna actually meet with him, are you?”  
As Willow gave up on her struggle, she sighed before leaning against the counter to watch Juliet read over Dean’s letter. As Juliet lowered the papers, she reached out to grab George’s letter before Juliet could see.   
“Hey! I was reading those!”  
Willow shot her middle finger at Juliet, which she answered to with the same motion. Juliet then placed Dean’s letter on the counter before turning back to look at Willow.  
“You can’t go meet with him, Willow,” she stated. “You’ve only recently let him back into your life, which you shouldn’t have in the first place, and he’s already royally fucked up.”  
Willow began picking at her nail bed to avoid eye contact with Juliet. “It doesn’t really seem like I have a choice.”  
Juliet scoffed as she continued, “Willow, don’t let a man decide what you can and can’t do. You don’t need to give him the satisfaction of giving him what he wants.”  
Willow glanced up at her friend. “Well, maybe I want to see what he has to say,” she defended. “You can’t blame him for what he did. He was probably drunk, I mean we all were, and he didn’t know how to react to Dove leaving, so he lashed out.”  
Juliet looked at Willow with sheer confusion. “Do you hear yourself, Willow? You sound just like you did after your trip to–”  
“Juliet! I don’t want to talk about that,” she interrupted. “I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions on my own issues. I never said I forgave him, I just thought it may be nice to hear him out. You know I still have a lot of unanswered questions, too.”  
Juliet rolled her eyes. “You should know that you have none of my support on this. It’s only going to end up with heartbreak for you all over again. You’re messing with a taken man, once again.”  
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Juliet.”  
“I think I do, Willow,” she shot back. “I saw you with George last night. Are you going to give all that up just for an old flame that’s already broken your heart?”  
Willow ran her hands over her face before responding, “I am not throwing anything away with him because there isn’t anything to throw away, Juliet. He’s a friend for now that I’m trying not to worry myself with constantly. And, mind you, I’m also trying to open a brand-fucking-new bakery during all of this. I have no real plan, okay? Is that what you want to hear?”  
“I just want to hear that you’re going to be smart in what you do, Willie,” Juliet sighed. “I was by your side the entire time you were involved with Dean, and I don’t want to see you go through all of that again.”  
Willow sniffled as her face became hot. “I just want the support of my best friend. I need to know you’re going to be with me no matter what.”  
Juliet pulled her into a hug as tears began falling down Willow’s face. “Christ, Willie. You’d think I just told you I hated you,” she said into Willow’s hair. “You know I end up supporting you in everything you do, babes. I just worry about you getting hurt.”  
As they pulled away, Juliet pulled her jacket sleeve on top of her hand to use it to wipe the wetness off Willow’s face. Willow let out a laugh as she caught a morphed glimpse of herself in the glass oven door.   
“I can’t believe I just started crying over nothing,” she said, wiping the rest of her tears away with her fingers.  
“I think you’re just overwhelmed, babes. You have a lot on your plate right now,” Juliet soothed. “You can meet with Dean if you want, I know that you think it may provide the closure you desire. But you should know I’m still Team George.”  
Willow laughed, “My life is not a reality dating show, Jules.”  
“Well, it may as well be with all the drama over the past couple of weeks,” Juliet quipped. “Okay, now that you’re calm, I’m going upstairs to back a bag. By the time I’m back, I want a to-go box of cookies, please.”  
Willow nodded as Juliet pulled her into another hug before turning to jog upstairs. Once she was out of sight, Willow grabbed a smaller, white box out of the storage room. She placed a dozen cookies in it before using a pen in her office to write a sweet note to the two girls.  
Soon after, Juliet came bounding down their stairs with a small bag in her hand. She grabbed the box of cookies before kissing Willow on the cheek and making her promise to write if anything happened.   
Next, Willow spent her time boxing the majority of the remaining cookies in another container so she could send them to her family since she had to go to the post office anyway. Before she left, she wrote out a grocery list for the week, a letter agreeing to meet Dean, and another letter to George apologizing to him and also committing to help with the mystery product.   
☆☆☆


	11. One-Sided

Willow had been laying in bed, staring into the darkness since six this morning. Whenever she had something to do the next day, whether it be exciting or scary, it was rare for her to sleep an adequate amount the night before. So, just like always, Willow had been awake for hours, mulling over everything she wanted to say to Dean tonight.  
A short while after Willow had sent her letter to Dean yesterday she received a response from him, confirming their plans. She was scared of getting upset at whatever he had to say, so she had asked him to the bakery as a place to be comfortable.  
Her main worry was that he would take this the wrong way. Knowing Dean, it seemed that he interpreted all her signs in the wrong directions. Asking him to meet her at the bakery meant she risked him trying to come upstairs and make himself at home.   
But she planned to not let him past the front area. Whether their conversation was positive or negative, one thing was for sure: she didn’t want to do anything physical with him tonight.  
Would she ever want to again? That was to be determined.   
She turned her body towards the wall and watched as Bartholomew lazily opened his eyes to look at her. Reaching her hand out, she began to scratch his head to which he responded to with a yawn.   
Willow yawned back as he settled his head back into the crook of his front leg. She couldn’t help but envy that he had nothing in this world to worry about except what spot in the apartment was best for napping.   
She shifted to her back as she began to pick at her nail bed. The digital clock on her bookshelf read 9:56, four minutes until Weasley & Weasley opened. She could already hear the bustle of Diagon Alley from below her window and she knew that Seth would arrive at the bakery in about two hours.   
And yet still nothing was going to get her out of bed.   
She ran over her prepared speech for the night a few more times in her brain as time passed. It was past ten by now since she could hear the whirring of the ginger robot lifting his top hat up and down. And just as her eyes fluttered closed in an attempt to catch up on a bit of her sleep, she heard a ringing noise sound from her dresser.   
Willow quickly sat up as her head turned to the left. She caught a look at the small plastic box vibrating along the top of her dresser as she stood up to investigate. Staring at the small green screen at the front of the cell phone, she rolled her eyes as the words “NICHOLAS SWEETWOOD” flashed across it.   
She picked it up as she searched for the button her dad had taught her to use when answering. Growing up in a half-muggle family meant that she understood some of their technologies, but a lot of it remained foreign.   
Once she had moved out of her parent’s house, her dad insisted on buying her a cell phone since he hated the wizard postal system. Willow wasn’t one to argue with how much Willow’s dad loved to complain about owls, so she accepted the gift with a promise of learning how to use it.   
She thought herself stupid as she realized it would be the large green button, so she clicked it as she walked to her chair in the corner.   
“H-hello?” she questioned as she held the phone to her ear. “Dad?”  
“Willow!” her dad’s voice came bellowing out of the small speaker. “Darling, you alright?”  
Willow smiled as she heard her dad’s voice for the first time in weeks. “Hi, daddy. I’m doing okay, how are you? I miss you guys.”  
“Oh, sweetie, we miss you more,” he responded. “We got your, uh, bird this morning. Your cookies are delicious as ever.”  
Willow laughed. “I’m glad to hear it, dad. Is mama with you, too?”  
“Already tired of talking to your old man, are you?”  
“Oh, please. Don’t try to pull that card on me,” Willow shot back.   
She heard her dad laugh before he responded, “Yes, your mother is in the other room with Nana and Papa. I wanted to talk to you privately before I let everyone else have a chance.”  
Willow’s face contorted in confusion before she realized her dad couldn’t see her. “Is everything okay?”  
Her dad sighed, “I’m not trying to scare you when I say this, sweetie, but I think you should come and visit Nana soon.”  
“Wha-what do you mean by that?”  
“Well, Nana went in for her latest scan yesterday and they said that everything is looking better.”  
Willow nervously tucked her hair behind her free ear. “Alright, well that doesn’t sound like something that should worry me, dad.”  
“I just–I just think that it wouldn’t be a bad idea for you to come and see us,” he stated. “You’re going to be much busier in the next few months and I don’t want you to wish you had visited before it becomes too late.”  
“But you literally just said that the doctors told you she was doing better?”  
“I know what I said, sweetie,” he maintained. “But I’m telling you that nothing is for sure in life. And I think you need to visit. Is that so much to ask?”  
“I mean no,” she sighed. “I’m only saying I don’t und–”  
“Sounds great, Willow,” her dad interjected, cutting his daughter off. “I’m walking into the next room now.”  
Willow sighed as she heard movement from the other side of the receiver. She wanted to be able to ask her dad more questions about her grandmother, but it didn’t seem like it was going to happen. It wasn’t like she wasn’t willing to visit, she just didn’t understand why her dad was making such a fuss about it. This wasn’t normal behavior for him.   
But before Willow had a chance to continue thinking over her dad’s news, she heard him talking to the rest of the people in the room. “Everyone say a hello to Willow!” she heard her father say, seemingly a distance away from the phone.  
Willow listened to the chorus of greetings leave the speaker as she felt a small twinge in her heart. She hadn’t realized how much she missed her family until she was able to hear their voices again, perhaps muggle technology wasn’t too bad.   
“Hi, guys!” she cheerily responded. “I wish I could be there right now.”  
“Give me the phone, Nicky,” she heard her grandmother’s hoarse voice snap. “I can barely hear my bloody granddaughter.”   
Willow heard her father begin to argue, “We all want to talk to her, mum. This way none of us will miss it.”  
“You got to talk to her alone, why can’t I?” her grandmother shot back.  
She heard a small sigh sound from her dad as footsteps grew louder in her ear. “I don’t know how much you heard of that, but it turns out we’ll all be taking turns talking to you, sweetie,” her father said, now speaking directly into the phone. “Is that alright?”  
Willow smiled into the phone as she responded, “Yes, that’s fine. I’m free ‘til one.”  
Movement could be heard from the speaker as her dad handed the phone to Willow’s grandmother. She listened as her Nana forced the room to leave before she finally heard a clear voice.  
“You alright, baby?” her Nana questioned. “I heard you’re coming to visit us soon.”  
Sounds like her dad had already announced her visit, so Willow didn’t have a choice. Not that she was complaining, but what was the point of asking her if it was already decided upon?  
Willow laughed into the phone. “Yes, Nana, I’m alright,” she said. “I heard you got good news at the doctor the other day?”  
Willow winced as she heard her grandmother loudly cough three times.  
“Does that sound like good news to you?” her Nana quipped. “I don’t want to talk about test results, baby. It’s all I ever heard from your father. Tell me about the bakery.”  
The two women spent the next few moments relaying everything that happened in their lives since Willow had moved out. It was mostly Willow talking since her Nana had to pause every few minutes to loudly cough. Each time Willow had to stop and listen to her grandmother suffer, a part of her broke.   
She tried to focus mostly on the positives of her past two weeks, describing that Everly reminded Willow of her grandmother and that Seth was pretty easy on the eyes while simultaneously being a big help. It wasn’t a sure thing that her Nana would ever get to see the bakery in person, especially since she was a muggle, so Willow was careful to paint a beautiful picture over the phone.  
She was then able to talk to her grandfather, Papa, for a few moments. He went into great detail about his garden outside their home so Willow was only able to get a few words in before she heard her Nana telling Papa off for talking too much.   
The phone call ended with a brief conversation between Willow and her mother where she debated about asking her mom for advice on tonight but decided against it due to her entire family still being in the room. Her father said the last goodbye with a reminder of coming to visit soon, and then Willow was alone again.  
She leaned into her chair as she set the phone on the nearest shelf before hugging her legs to her chest and letting a few tears slip. It seemed like everything in Willow’s life was unsure right now.  
Her grandmother’s health, her relationships with Dean and George, even her bakery wasn’t fully planned out. Willow was in desperate need of certainty in her life, but it was beginning to seem like she was never going to see it.  
☆☆☆  
The rest of her day was spent downstairs in the office with Seth. It seemed that he was able to do anything Willow needed from him.   
When she wanted to test a recipe, suddenly Seth’s mouth was open. When she couldn’t reach something on a shelf, suddenly Seth was by her side. When she needed help designing her sign, suddenly Seth was an artist.  
But Willow wasn’t complaining. Seth may have been a bit younger than her, but she couldn’t deny her attraction to him. Did she really want to add to the list of potential men in her life? Well, maybe Seth was worth it.  
He was charismatic, handsome, and seemingly a good person. There wasn’t much else that Willow could ask for in a partner. However, she was still his boss, so there would be an underlying issue in the back of her mind the whole time. Plus, he had his problems. Today, when he was helping her with signage ideas, he criticized the name of her bakery, but Willow chose to not take it personally.  
It most likely wouldn’t end well for her anyway, so she pushed the attraction away for now, however, she couldn’t help but catch Seth looking at her whenever she looked away.   
But for now, it was nearing 8:00 and Willow had to get ready to meet Dean downstairs. She had spent her time alone in her apartment after Seth had left a couple of hours ago. He had tried to invite her out for supper, but Willow pushed him off with mumbles about needing to take care of the cat.  
She had pulled out a piece of leftover chicken from last night’s meal but ended up merely picking at it before giving up and gifting part of it to the crying animal at her feet. Watching as Bartholomew inhaled the scraps in his bowl, Willow began to bite at her nail. She felt sick to her stomach over what was about to happen.   
She turned her body to watch as the grandfather clock ticked ever closer to 8:00. After sitting in silence for longer than she needed to and nearly tearing her entire thumbnail off, Willow stood to gather her dirty plate. She placed the dish in their sink promising herself to clean it later before turning to grab two glasses from the cabinet.  
She filled them both halfway up with water before setting them down to ensure she looked okay in her bedroom mirror. Once she was pleased with her appearance, Willow turned to walk back into the kitchen where she pet Bartholomew a few times and picked up the glasses.   
After slowly making her way down the backstairs at 7:57, Willow settled into the same armchair from yesterday. She placed the waters on the small table next to her as she watched the building across from her. Right at 8:00, Willow watched as Lee closed their front door and waved his wand at the electronic signs to turn them off.   
At 8:06, she watched Lee, Fred, and George walk out the front door laughing. Fred turned to lock the shop up before they began strolling towards the opposite end of Diagon Alley.   
At 8:10, Willow began to think she was being stood-up for a meeting she didn’t even want to have. But just as her hopes were about to be completely dashed, her heart couldn’t help but skip a beat as she saw a frantic Dean dashing from the direction of the Leaky Cauldron.   
She instinctively stood from her chair as she watched Dean search for the front of her bakery. Willow saw his eyes light up in recognition before he strolled to the entrance, stopping to smile at her through the window. After hastily walking to the door, she unlocked it to let him in.   
“Hey, Willie,” Dean breathed out as he stood on her front stoop.   
Willow felt her face grow warm as she smiled up at him. He had a large grin plastered across his face and was wearing a patterned grey collared shirt matched with a pair of cleanly pressed khaki pants.   
She felt her eyes linger for a beat too long before turning her body to allow him inside. Dean brushed past her, lighting her body on fire just as it had last weekend. She took extra care at the door to ensure she had a moment to catch her breath from his intoxicating rum scent.  
“Oh, is this water for me?” Dean asked as he sat down in the armchair opposite her’s.   
Willow nodded her head as she watched him take a small sip. “Are you going to stand there the whole time, love?”  
Rolling her eyes, she made her way to the other chair as she felt Dean’s gaze scanning her body. After settling in the chair and tucking her legs underneath her, she turned to him. “See something you’d like? You keep staring at me.”  
Dean chuckled. “I see lots of things I’d like, we are in a bakery after all.”  
Willow scoffed as she answered, “A bakery with no desserts inside.”  
Dean placed his water glass down as he said, “I can think of a dessert in here that I crave.”  
“Why’re you here, Dean?”  
“You’re no fun,” he sighed. “Do you remember the first day we met?”  
“Where are you going with this?” she questioned.  
Dean held a hand up. “Just let me reminisce for a second.”  
Willow, too, held her hands up in defense before nodding. “Yes, I remember the day we met.”  
“What went through your head when I asked you for a quill that morning?”  
“I think I probably thought, ‘Oh, he needs a quill. I’ll let him borrow one,’” Willow deadpanned.  
Dean titled his head as he narrowed his eyes. “That’s so boring.”  
“Well, what went through your head?” she challenged.   
Dean smiled as he responded, “I remember thinking about how beautiful you looked and wondering how I had never seen you in the halls before.”  
Willow stared back at him before sighing, “What exactly is your angle here, Dean?”  
“Just trying to catch up with an old friend,” he responded.  
Willow felt her temper slightly rise at his words. “I think we were more than friends, Dean.”  
“That’s not what you told Dove on Saturday,” he stated. “So what’s your relationship with Weasley, anyway?”  
“What’s your relationship with Dove?” she shot back.  
“Hm, I think I asked you first.”  
“Well, I don’t have a relationship past friendship with George,” she said. “But I don’t think you can say the same thing.”  
“Are you sure about that? I seem to remember him saying your name in regards to who he wanted to fuck,” Dean pointed out, taking another sip of his water.  
Willow scoffed. “And? What’s that got to do with anything?” she spat out. “Besides pissing you off, of course.”  
Dean rubbed the back of his neck as he responded, “I don’t care if Weasley wants to fuck you, Willie. I don’t ‘own’ you anymore.”  
“Own me?” she gasped. “Dean, you never owned me! We were never dating!”  
“Then how come you were so upset after you saw Ginny and me in Hogsmeade?”  
“What does that have to do with anything?” she questioned. “I thought you were here to apologize for calling me out in front of everyone and now you’re trying to turn this on me?”  
“It’s been over a year, Willie. And we never talked about that day.”  
“Well, maybe I don’t want to talk about that day,” she started. “Dean, you were all I thought about for a year and a half of my life. I’m not ashamed to admit that I loved you, but I know that you never felt the same way. And now that I’m finally over that period, you decide that it’s a good time to try and force yourself back into my life?”  
“It’s not like I knew you were gonna be at the club last weekend, Willie,” Dean interrupted. “And you’re the one that invited me back to your place.”  
“Dean! Stop trying to pin this all on me!” she asserted. “I told you from the very beginning that I wasn’t interested in anything more than sleeping with you that night, so you’re not allowed to sit there and act as I owe you anything.”  
Dean opened his mouth to protest but quickly clamped it shut as Willow shot him a look.   
“I don’t know what your relationship is with Dove, and it doesn’t really seem like you do either, but she’s a nice girl that seems genuinely interested in you,” she continued. “So why are you trying to break my heart all over again after all the damage you’ve already done?”  
“Look,” Dean said, leaning forward to take a reluctant Willow’s hand. “I was a stupid 16-year-old back then. I wasn’t aware of the amazing woman I had in front of me before it was too late. I really am sorry about what I said on Saturday, but I meant every word I told you last weekend. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that day in Hogsmeade.”  
“Dean, I can’t do this again,” Willow started, dropping Dean’s hand and standing up. “I’ve stressed myself out enough with everything in my life already and I don’t want to add you into the mix.”  
Dean followed suit, standing up and taking a step towards Willow. She watched him through teary eyes as he pulled her into his familiar embrace.   
She sniffled into his chest a few times, settling into his strong arms she hadn’t realized how much she missed. The two broke apart slightly as Willow looked up at Dean.   
“I think I may have gotten some snot on your shirt, sorry about that,” she whispered up at him.  
“Don’t worry, Willie. You can do no wrong in my book.”  
Before Willow was given a chance at a remark back, Dean had gently grabbed her face to guide it towards his. Willow’s eyes fluttered shut as their lips pressed together. For a brief moment, she felt herself become enthralled with the taste of him on her lips, but a split second later she broke apart from him in shock.   
“I-I’m sorry, Willow,” Dean confessed. “I don’t know why I did that.”  
Willow felt her eyes pooling with tears again. “Get out, please.”  
“No, Willie, you don’t understand. I–”   
Willow interrupted, “No, Dean, you’re right. I don’t understand. And it doesn’t seem I ever will. You were a close friend, or whatever you prefer to call it, for such a long time. You were there for me when Nana got sick and for so many other things. And I wish I could still have you in my life, but if this is all it will ever be, I don’t think I can have that.”  
Dean attempted to grab Willow’s hand, but she pulled it away as she turned to walk towards the exit. Willow shakily unlocked the door before opening it and motioning for him to leave.   
“I think you need to go, Dean,” she whispered. “Now is not the time I need this in my life.”  
Willow could tell he wanted to argue but watched as he hung his head before walking out the door, careful not to touch her on his way out. She closed the door after him before making her way back to the area of armchairs.   
She stood in shock at what had just happened. She watched Dean’s body weave in and out of the crowds as he made his way toward the Leaky Cauldron. Placing a hand to her mouth to feel what had just been forced upon her, she looked out the window at the people walking alongside her shop.  
None of them batted an eye toward her, confirming that this was something only she was going to know about, which is what she wanted. She had longed for closure about her relationship with Dean, something she didn’t even realize she desired, but all that had come from it was more confusion and heartbreak.   
Still a bit shaken, she grabbed both of their water glasses before making her way upstairs. As she passed the landing into their living room, Bartholomew came from Juliet’s room to rub between her legs as she walked. Due to this, Willow managed to trip on her way toward the kitchen, dropping Dean’s empty glass in the process.   
It shattered on their hardwood floor as Bartholomew flew under the couch. Willow watched him go before turning her attention to the broken glass scattered across the floor. She placed the intact cup on the island before leaning down to inspect the damage.   
She cleared a spot of any glass on the floor before falling into a seated position as she stared at her surroundings. How perfect was it that she drops a glass today.   
Nothing seemed to be going to plan in her life over the past few weeks, and she was beginning to get sick of it. Willow wished nothing more than to be a young witch at Hogwarts again, no cares in the world except completing her Potions essay on time.   
As she began to pick up the larger, more visible pieces she felt tears pooling in her eyes. Why did she keep crying? This was the fourth time in 24 hours and she was feeling weaker by the minute. Willow wasn’t typically one to cry so she didn’t even feel like herself anymore.   
Once she had cleared the initial pieces, Willow tossed them in the trash before placing the other glass in their sink and continuing to inspect the ground. She had managed to wipe the tears away before they fell, but now all she wanted to do was take a hot shower and forget about this horrid day.   
She made a split-second decision to search for more glass in the morning, seeing as though her mental state was declining by the mere minute. After slowly coaxing a shaking Bartholomew from under the couch, she carried him into her bedroom and shut the door.   
He found a home on her bed once more as she gathered her largest hoodie and a pair of pajama shorts to wear to bed. She threw the items on the end of her mattress before making her way into the bathroom to turn on the shower.   
Once the water had reached an adequate temperature, Willow stepped into the steamy area as she felt her negative energy leave her body. She spent the next several moments standing in the hot water, allowing it to run down her body.   
Once she felt properly cleansed, she did her typical shower routine before stepping into the cold air and wrapping a large towel around herself. She took the time to brush her teeth and wash her face in the sink, then made her way back into the bedroom.   
Bartholomew meowed in response to the light switch turning on as Willow dressed in the clothes she had laid out previously. After spending the next several minutes stretching her fatigued body, she made her way toward her curtains. She threw them open before settling in her favorite armchair.  
Her eyes scanned the few people still wandering the streets at 9 o’clock. She placed an elbow on the windowpane before resting her head on her hand. Before she was able to continue watching a drunken fight happening a few buildings away, movement from her neighbor’s window caught her eye.  
She realized now that if she could see into her window from the side area of the Weasley’s bay window, that also meant she could see straight into someone’s bedroom since it sat directly next to it. As her eyes scanned what little part of the room she could see into, Willow tried to look for cues as to who’s room it was.   
She was beginning to think she recognized the bedspread, but she didn’t have to wonder for long as she watched the familiar bathroom door swing open as George walked out. His hair was dripping with water and he had a dark towel wrapped loosely around his waist, daring to dip lower with every movement.   
Willow felt a small gasp escape her lips as she was able to truly study his body for the first time. Her eyes trailed up his wet torso as he began rummaging in a dresser just out of her view. She watched as his back muscles flexed with each motion, and couldn’t help but stare at how firm his ass seemed to be from here.   
She ducked behind the wall next to her window as she saw him turn towards his bed. She peeked her eyes out from behind the curtain long enough to watch him settle on the side of the bed nearest the window. Willow’s eyes widened as she saw George reach a hand into the folds of his towel. Her hand found her mouth as she watched George slowly begin to move his hand up and down under the protection of the towel.  
Willow sat mesmerized, watching his face twist in pleasure with each stroking motion. There was something about this that felt wrong and right all at the same time. Did he know his curtains were open? Was he aware that almost anyone could see him at any moment? Perhaps that was part of what helped him get off.  
Willow instinctively crossed her legs as an oncoming stirring of feelings filled her body. It was becoming too much for her to watch as his left hand gripped his comforter and his head was thrown back in pleasure with every move he made. She could have sworn she even saw his eyes flash to meet hers for a mere moment before Willow sunk into her chair and out of view of George’s window.   
It wasn’t how she was expecting her night to end, but it was also not a complaint in Willow’s book. Once she had taken a few calming breaths and had closed her curtains as slowly as possible, she made her way to bed.   
☆☆☆  
Willow was awoken the following morning to an unfamiliar tapping noise on her bedroom window. She groggily forced herself out of bed, her only motivation to end the noise. Throwing open her curtains, she was met eye-to-eye with an owl.   
After hastily opening her window, she reached out to grab the purple envelope clasped in the owl’s talons. She bid it a thank you as it took off before forcing the window closed.   
Willow rubbed her eyes as the words ‘Ms. Sweetwood’ came into view on the front of the envelope. After settling in her armchair, she tore open the familiar ‘W’ wax seal and unfolded the parchment. It read:   
Dear Willow,  
I’m glad to hear you’re still willing to work with us after Saturday’s fiasco. Fred and I are super excited to rummage around in that brain of yours for some fantastic ideas. I don’t want to give anything away, since pitching the ideas is my favorite part, so how does meeting early next week sound? Freddie and I could come over after we close the shop. Hope to hear back soon.  
George  
(your neighbor)  
p.s. I hope you enjoyed your show last night, I only wish you’d kept watching.   
☆☆☆


	12. Experimenting

Willow–  
I’M SORRY HE DID WHAT? I don’t ever want to hear you say some shit about how you don’t think George likes you ever again. Angie & I are literally in shock right now. She says she didn’t know George had it in him. Willow, I beg you to go fuck that man RIGHT NOW. God, Willie, I don’t even know how to act about this.  
But, okay, I miss you. Angie says hi. I’ll be home, like, Wednesday of next week. Okay, bye. Love you. Bye.  
Jules  
Willow nearly choked on the toast she was eating as she read over Juliet’s letter. A few hours had passed since this morning when George’s owl woke Willow up. She still had not written him back, instead choosing to write to Juliet and Angelina for advice. However, it didn’t seem like she got any based on the response.   
George’s letter had sent her head into such a spin this morning, that it was taking her hours to come up with the perfect response. She read over Juliet’s letter one more time in an attempt to muster the courage she needed to write the perfect balance of professionalism and flirtiness in her response.   
Then she placed Juliet’s letter to the side and picked up her quill. After dipping it in the inkpot, she wrote:   
Dear George,  
Next week sounds perfect. How about you both come over Tuesday around 8:30? I’ll even make dinner.  
Willow  
(your neighbor)  
p.s. How’d you know I would enjoy the show? I hope there’s an act two soon.  
Willow began to chew on her nail as she read over her response. She was interested in George, and she did truly enjoy his ‘show’ last night. Just as Angelina had said, Willow didn’t even know he had it in him.  
But what if she was being too forward? Well, George had touched himself in front of her, maybe there was no such thing as ‘too forward’ with him.  
Willow cracked her knuckles before deciding, for once in her life, to stop overthinking it and send the damn letter. There was no use in toying over whether or not it would be received well. He had made the first move, and Willow was ready to meet him in the middle.  
She sealed the letter shut, shoved the rest of her buttered toast into her mouth, and dumped the plate in the sink. Then she grabbed a quill to write a short response to Juliet explaining that she was to see the twins next week and filled her in on what she had written back to George.  
After reaching down to scratch Bartholomew’s chin, she rushed to the bathroom where she brushed her teeth and pulled on a bra and some socks. Willow slipped her feet into the pair of clogs by her bedroom door and walked out to grab the two letters on her kitchen counter.  
She tossed a salmon treat to the cat before pulling on the first jacket she saw on the coat rack and speeding down the stairs. Willow didn’t have all the time in the world today since she had an appointment at a sign-making company in Hogsmeade later in the week and she did not have a design to give them yet.  
After pushing open the front door and locking it behind her, she couldn’t help but pause to watch the Weasley’s shop. Once more, she found herself searching the window for a sign of George, but her eyes were only met with floppy ginger hair and not her preferred short and choppy.  
She sighed for a moment before stuffing her hands into the deep pockets of her jacket. It was the end of October and England was becoming chillier each day.   
As Willow began the short walk to the postal office, she thought forward to the holiday season and her birthday. She wished her bakery could be ready by Christmas, but she just didn’t think it, or herself, would be ready in the next month. She had full intentions of prolonging her opening for as long as possible. It may have been her dream, but it didn’t make the idea any less scary.   
As she wandered between the witches and wizards out on Diagon Alley today, she felt her mind floating back to the imagery of George in his room last night. She saw the post office in the distance as the vision of his hand gripping the comforter flashed before her eyes. A familiar feeling began to float up her body as––  
Suddenly, Willow crashed into a person just outside the post office. The two of them collided hard as Willow’s face was buried into the chest of the wizard. She felt two arms wrap around her back, catching her before she could lose her balance.  
A mere moment after they had bumped into each other, Willow was taking a step away from them, glancing upward as she did. Her face lit up as recognition washed over her.  
“Seth!” Willow gasped. “Oh, my Merlin! I’m so sorry about that.”  
Still holding onto Willow’s arms, Seth responded, “I should be the one apologizing, Ms. Sweetwood. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”  
Willow laughed as she took a step back, forcing Seth to let go of her. “First of all, I have told you multiple times to just call me Willow. Second, what are you doing in Diagon Alley anyway? I thought you had classes in the mornings?”  
Seth glanced at his watch. “Well, it’s one in the afternoon, so my classes are over,” he started. “And I’m just here to pick up something for my mum. I was even thinking of stopping in at the bakery to see if you needed any help.”  
She felt her face grow warm from embarrassment. Willow hadn’t realized how much time she’d spent today thinking about the correct response to George. The toast she had finished before she left had been made with the idea that it was 10 am.  
“Hello?” Seth said, interrupting her train of thought. “You’re doing that weird space-out thing again, Willow.”  
“Oh! Sorry! I just didn’t realize how late it already was,” she rushed out. “I’m on my way to send some letters, but I don’t think I really need any help today.”  
“Are one of those letters a sign design for Madame Duval?” Seth questioned as he pulled Willow towards the post office window, and out of the middle of the street.  
She shot him a sheepish smile. “Uh, I don’t think so. Still haven’t quite settled on a font. One’s for Juliet and the other is for George Weasley, I don’t know if you know him.”  
Willow watched as Seth’s smile seemed to falter for a split second before he spoke, “Oh, yes, of course. I know all about the Weasleys! I feel like I see a new woman come out of their apartment every morning I work at the bakery.”  
Seth let out a few forced laughs that Willow returned with an unsure smile.   
“Yeah, well...I’m supposed to work on a new product with them to help promote the bakery,” Willow laughed. “I’m not sure women coming out of their apartment really affects that.”  
Seth ran a hand through his dark hair as he sighed. “Sorry, Willow. I didn’t mean it like that,” he started. “But that sounds cool. I’m sure any product you’re involved in will turn out awesome.”  
Willow smiled back at him. “No, it’s fine. I barely know them anyway,” she reassured. “Merely business partners at the time.”  
Seth’s eyes seemed to search Willow’s face for a sign of something.  
“Just business partners? Sounds like you may want it to be more…” he trailed off.   
Willow shot him a bewildered look. “Uh, I’m not sure, Seth. I suppose I want to be friends with them...I hardly find this conversation appropriate.”  
Seth placed his hands up in defense. “Merlin, no! I wasn’t trying to be weird, Willow. Just making conversation I suppose,” he said, lowering his hands and refusing to look Willow in the eyes.  
“Okay, well, it was nice to see you, Seth,” Willow began. “I think I’ll need you in the store a few times this week, so I shall send you a letter later on letting you know when. Sound good?”  
“Erm, yes. Th-that sounds fine,” Seth said. “I’m sorry again.”  
Willow shook her head and smiled. “I promise you’re fine, Seth. As I said, I barely know the Weasleys.”  
Seth and Willow said an awkward goodbye before he turned to walk the same direction he came from, a notion Willow thought weird, but she brushed it off as she turned toward the door of the post office. As her hand connected with the handle of the door, her words to Seth echoed in her mind, “I barely know the Weasleys.”  
Was this all a grave mistake? Was sending the letter taking it too far? What if this ruined her promotional deal with him as well?  
No.   
Willow wasn’t going to let her mind ruin another relationship for her. She pushed open the door of the post office as her nose was overtaken by the smell of bird.  
Instinctively her face twisted in disgust before she walked to the counter to send off her letters to their respected destinations. After talking to the employee for a few moments, she was ready to leave.  
But just as she was heading toward the exit, the attendant caught her attention. Willow turned back to see him holding out an envelope, apologizing for almost letting her leave without it. After reassuring him that it was fine, she grabbed the white envelope and slipped out the door.  
As she began her stroll back to her place, she took the time to glance down at the letter in her hand. But Willow’s stomach dropped as she saw a drawing of a willow tree in the corner and her name written across the front of the envelope in some all-too-familiar handwriting.   
☆☆☆  
A week had passed since sending her letter to George. She had received a letter back from him confirming their plans, but no mention of what had happened on that certain night.   
She hadn’t bothered to write him back because there was nothing more to say. Willow felt like she had taken it too far and he was regretting doing anything in the first place.   
The majority of the past week was spent moping about her apartment. She had written letters back and forth with Juliet, who was still trying to reassure her that George was interested, but there was something in Willow’s stupid brain that didn’t allow her to accept this.   
Juliet had also asked multiple times what had happened with Dean, but Willow adamantly ignored the questions each time. She was afraid that if she started talking then she wouldn’t be able to stop. And eventually, she’d let it slip that Dean had kissed her.   
But Willow didn’t want or need to think about any of that right now. Fred and George were coming over to talk about their mystery product in a little over an hour, and she still needed to get ready and start the dinner she had promised.   
A few days after her trip to the post office, Willow had traveled to Hogsmeade where she met with Madame Duval, a small French lady who ran a hand-made sign business. The two women had discussed fonts for an hour before Willow was finally able to decide on her sign for the front of the store. It was a beautiful white-stained wood with dark pink lettering to off-set the pale pink building her bakery resided in. She was supposed to go pick it up later this week and she couldn’t be more excited.   
While she was in Hogsmeade, she had stopped at The Magic Neep, a greengrocer, to buy the ingredients for tonight’s supper: Shepard’s pie. It was an old recipe from her mom’s side of the family, and she felt like the twins would enjoy the meat and potatoes.   
However, before she started cooking, Willow took a quick shower and dressed in her best “I’m trying to look cute, but I don’t want you to know I’m trying to look cute” outfit: a cropped, sage short-sleeved jumper and a simple pair of light-wash jeans. She pulled on a pair of white socks and sat on her bed as she debated on wearing shoes in her own home.   
After realizing that she would need to walk through the bakery, and this was supposed to be a business meeting, she stepped into a pair of white sneakers before tying them up. She looked over herself in the mirror as she debated on putting make-up on, ultimately deciding she didn’t have the time, before heading back to her kitchen.  
Her living room clock read 8:02 p.m. as she glanced out the window to see George locking the door to the shop across the street. Her heart skipped a beat at his rolled-up sleeves and disheveled hair but tore her gaze away before she was caught looking.   
Willow pulled out her aunt’s cookbook and began to set out everything she would need to make the meal tonight. She laid out everything across the counters before filling a large pot with water and placing it on the stove’s back burner.   
After turning the stove on, she turned back to the counter to start prepping the potatoes. However, before grabbing the peeler, Willow picked up her wand to turn the radio on in the corner. A smooth beat soon filled the space as she began to hum along to the music while she tended to the vegetables.   
Just as she was finishing peeling and chopping everything, Willow’s attention was broken from the daydream that occupied her mind. She whipped her head around as she heard the sound of faint yelling below the music.   
Willow grabbed her wand and turned the radio off as she made her way toward the source of the sound, her living room window. As she walked closer, the words became clearer. Two deep voices were shouting her name over and over again.   
She glanced at the clock, 8:23, before she threw the window open. Sticking her head out, she looked down at Fred and George wildly jumping and shouting in the middle of Diagon Alley.   
With the appearance of her head, the yelling only got louder as the witches and wizards around them continued to shoot the duo dirty looks. But Willow couldn’t help that she stopped to admire them for a few moments.   
Fred was bent over in laughter, wearing a grey Hawaiian shirt decorated with white flowers and a pair of khaki pants. He was holding a dark brown briefcase in one hand. Next to him was George who was smiling up at Willow. He had on a worn-out flannel shirt, jeans, and the same pair of black Chucks from the costume party.   
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Willow shouted down at them, attempting to suppress her smile.  
“Trying to get your attention! What does it look like we’re doing?” George retorted, even louder than his brother’s laughter next to him.   
He leaned over to elbow Fred who quickly straightened his posture and happily waved up at Willow.  
“Let us in, Ms. Sweetwood!” Fred yelled. “We are so cold and hungry.”  
Willow rolled her eyes. “Both of you hush! You’re drawing too much attention to yourselves!”  
Fred laughed, “What are you talking about? We’re giving you free advertisement right now!”  
“Exactly! People will travel for miles to see the legendary ‘Yelling Baker’ in Diagon Alley!” George added on.   
“I’m not sure that’s exactly the brand I want to go for,” she laughed. “By the way, where’s Lee?”  
“He had a ‘previous engagement’ as he put it. But he sends his humble regards and asked us to kiss your hand as an apology, or something,” Fred responded.  
“Okay, well, I just need to add the potatoes to my pot. Then I’ll be down to open the door in a moment.”  
“Oh, so we’re getting dinner and a show!” George loudly teased.  
“George, I told you in my letter that I would make you dinner,” she shot back.  
“Well, I heard you say a lot in those letters, Willow! Georgie probably forgot,” Fred shouted.  
Willow’s eyes widened as she watched George smack his brother’s arm. “Take your time, Willow! And, please, ignore him,” George reassured.   
Fred and George stopped their yelling as she shut the window and pulled her head back inside. She glanced down to watch as they walked to her steps, sitting on the top one and beginning to animatedly chat.   
She took a moment to collect herself after Fred’s words about her letters. Was it possible that George had told Fred what she’d said? They are brothers, but does that mean Fred has to know everything? Willow glanced back at them before deciding to forget about the letters and focus on the business meeting ahead of them.  
Willow then strolled back to the kitchen where she tossed the potatoes into the boiling pot. After profusely salting the water, she and Bartholomew made their way down the back steps and into the bakery’s kitchen.   
The cat continued to trail her as she walked towards the front door. After stopping to unlock it, Willow swung open the entrance to properly greet the two men. However, just as Fred and George were standing up, Bartholomew darted out the door and down the stairs.  
“No!” Willow shouted in a panic.  
Without saying a word, George dashed down the stairs and after the cat. Willow frantically watched as he ran closely behind him down Diagon Alley and out of sight. She began down the stair, but Fred grabbed her arm to stop her.  
“You shouldn’t worry too much,” Fred started. “I’m sure George will get him, he’s great with pussy.”  
Willow couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips. “Is that your version of a wingman?” she questioned, looking up at Fred.  
“I don’t know, is it working?”   
Before she had a chance to respond, George reappeared in the distance holding a ball of grey fur. As he approached the bakery, Willow ran down the steps to meet him.   
“Oh, George, thank you!” she rushed out, taking a shaking Bartholomew from George’s arms. “You literally just saved my ass, you have no idea.”  
George smiled down at her, stroking the cat in Willow’s arms. “It was no big deal, he’s just a little scaredy-cat.”  
Willow laughed before turning to lead them inside the bakery. “No one speaks a word of this to Juliet, understand?”  
She looked over her shoulder to see them both nod their heads as Fred closed the door. The three of them then walked up the back stairs to her apartment. Willow stopped to let Bartholomew free before walking back to the kitchen to stir the potatoes and finish the rest of the meal.  
As she dumped the meat into a pan, Fred spoke, “We’re really getting an all-access pass here, Willow. We get to see where the magic happens.”  
“You’re already making me regret having the meeting in my home,” Willow quipped.   
Fred shook his head as the twins continued to wander around her living room. George was poking at the buttons on their television while Fred was staring at himself in the decorative mirror on the wall.   
As Willow continued to cook, Fred had now moved on to staring out the window next to the kitchen.  
“Oi, Willow! Did you know you can see straight into our living room from here?” Fred questioned. “I think you may even be able to see Georgie’s room, too.”  
George swung his head towards his brother before briefly glancing to Willow. A moment after the two made eye contact though, they were both looking in opposite directions again.  
Fred looked back at the other two who were both fiddling with whatever was in front of them to ignore the question he had just asked. He shot a questioning look at George who answered with his middle finger. Rolling his eyes, he shrugged off their behavior as he trotted towards Bartholomew.   
George watched as his brother began messing with the sleeping cat for a moment before shifting his gaze towards Willow. He turned back to the television to attempt to shut it off. Once he was successful, he walked to where his brother was.   
Willow watched out of the corner of her eye as Fred and George attempted to play with the cat, who was ignoring them both as he continued to sleep.  
“Your cat’s broken, Willow,” Fred reported, looking over at her.  
Willow turned to lean on the kitchen island. “Maybe he just doesn’t like you guys.”  
George placed a hand on his heart. “That’s bloody likely! I saved him not even 20 minutes ago, mind you.”  
Willow laughed as Fred said, “Or maybe it’s because he has a stupid name.”  
Breaking her eye contact with George, Willow looked at Fred. “How dare you! He doesn’t have a stupid name!” she challenged.   
“Willow,” George started, giving her a look. “You cannot possibly be arguing that Bartholomew is a good name for a cat.”  
Just as she was about to continue their argument, all three heads turned toward her bedroom as a loud ringing noise went off. Fred and George’s faces twisted in confusion at the noise.   
“It’s my cell phone, probably my dad calling,” she explained, looking down at the meat and vegetables in her hot pan. “Uh, would one of you mind watching the stove? I don’t want things to burn.”  
Fred instinctively placed his hand to his nose as he looked over at his brother. “Not it,” he breathed out.  
George rolled his eyes. “I was going to offer anyway, you twat.”  
Fred flipped his brother off as he continued to attempt to teach Bartholomew to respond to the name “Fredric,” which he had argued was a much better name for a cat.   
George ignored Fred as he walked into the kitchen to help Willow out. She gave him a brief synopsis on what he needed to do, pointed at the cookbook, and then she sprinted to her room where she was able to answer her dad’s call on the last ring.  
“Hello, dad!” she said, breathlessly, as she settled on her bed.  
“I was beginning to get worried, sweetie. You took so long to answer,” her dad responded. “Everything alright?”  
Willow sighed, “Yes, I’m fine. I was just making dinner for–uh, myself. Yeah, making dinner for myself.”  
“Alright, well I just called to see when you were planning on coming to see us, sweetie?” her dad asked.  
“Um, well I was thinking th––”  
Willow’s dad cut her off, “How about this weekend? That’s when Mitchell, Leo, and Taylor are coming up, too.”  
Once again, it seemed as though her dad had already decided for her. So, instead of arguing, Willow agreed, “Okay, dad. That sounds like a plan to me.”  
“Wonderful, sweetie!” he affirmed. “Well, I’ll let you get back to cooking since we’re going to see each other in a few days. Love and miss you!”  
“Love and miss you, too, dad. Bye,” Willow said before hanging up the phone.  
She stared down at the bulky cell phone in her hand before sighing. It was a consistent thing lately that her family seemed to be making plans without her. So while she had a slight resentment toward her dad for continuing to plan her life, her excitement to see her brothers overruled her frustrations greatly. After standing up, she tossed the phone in her chair as she made her way back out to the kitchen.   
“Willow, I think you’re going to have to start calling this cat Fredric,” Fred announced as she reentered the room. “I think he’s finally starting to come around.”  
Willow rolled her eyes at him as she made her way back to the kitchen where George was standing over the stove. “Everything go okay while I was on the phone?” she questioned.  
George smiled down at her. “I think I may belong on your bakery staff one day, Willow,” he said proudly.  
“Well, if you wanna be so cocky, I guess you can keep helping me,” she teased. Willow held her hand out so George could pass the wooden spoon to her, their hands touching for a brief moment. She saw George blush as he looked down, taking a step away from the stove.  
“Uh, is there anything I can do?” George offered, steering the subject away from the bubbling feeling in both of their stomachs.  
“Have you ever made mashed potatoes?” Willow questioned.  
A small smile appeared on George’s face. “It happens to be the only thing my mum would let me help with growing up. I think of myself as a pretty well-trained potato masher.”  
Willow laughed. “In that case, I put full trust in you to perfect those mashed potatoes.”  
They both turned to their respective jobs as they continued to chat, ignoring Fred’s groans in the background about Juliet’s cat. Willow learned more about his family; how close they were, how his parents met, and just story after story of Fred and George messing with their siblings as they grew up.  
Willow also told him about her family. George seemed to hang onto her every word as she talked about growing up with her grandmother, living primarily in the muggle world, and stories of how she and Mitchell would gang up on Leo growing up since he didn’t have magic to defend himself.   
Even long after the dish was in the oven, the two kept talking about any subject that came to mind. Gone were Willow’s insecurities about George since they were quickly being replaced by real feelings for him.  
She was finding that she couldn’t stop staring at him, no matter how many times Fred made attempts to get her attention. He had kept wanting to show her new “tricks” that he was teaching Bartholomew, but Willow didn’t have eyes for anything else in the room but George.   
But once the Shepard’s pie was ready, Willow served them all a hearty portion and poured them a glass of Dragon’s Ale, which had quickly become her new favorite beer after the party. She learned that it was also George and his father’s favorite beer, which is why they always had some in the fridge.  
As they set around her circular dining table, the conversation finally turned toward the mystery product they wanted Willow’s help on.  
“...so they’re basically edible mood rings,” George said, concluding his pitch to Willow.  
She took a sip of her drink as she thought for a moment. “So, you eat whatever the treat is and it instantly changes the mood of the person for a certain amount of time?”  
Fred smiled. “Yes, exactly! And we aren’t just planning on marketing them towards people who want to change their own moods,” he explained.  
“Say a kid’s mum is in a bad mood, but he wants to ask if they can go out with their friends. Well, what if he had a cookie or something he could give his mom to make her instantly happy?” George said, finishing his brother’s train of thought.  
“Bingo!” Fred interjected. “And if someone needs that extra boost of confidence during a test, or to, I don’t know, ask someone on a date, then they can pop the confidence one in their mouth and get their shit done.”  
Willow laughed at the two boys in front of her that seemed to share one brain. She felt her mind wander as she thought about the product line they had laid out in front of her. Mid-dinner Fred had opened his mysterious brown briefcase, which he emptied on the table.  
Notes about the product, sample sketches of possible brandings, and several stray joke products sold at their store were strewn across Willow’s dining table. She was currently reading over a list of moods and flavors they wanted to include in the final product.   
They had tasked Willow with coming up with a cohesive baked good or candy that she could help them make. And whatever she came up with, it seemed like they were going to use it. Both twins were extremely adamant about how badly they wanted Willow’s name on the front of the product.  
As she reread the flavors for the tenth time, one treat stayed at the forefront of her mind. “What if we did macarons?” she blurted out, causing them both to turn their heads toward her.  
George shot her an encouraging look as he said, “Go on.”  
She took a deep breath before continuing, “I think they would work out well. Macarons are typically small, and we could make them even smaller to fit more into a package. They’re very simple to make and every flavor you mention would work well in a macaron.”  
Fred and George nodded along as she talked. “Like, we said, Ms. Sweetwood, whatever you think will work out is what we start testing with. We want you to be as involved as possible with everything,” Fred replied.   
“Yeah, this isn’t the only meeting we have planned with you. I think that this is a collaboration that’s going to end up helping us both in the end,” George explained as he grinned at her.   
Willow shyly smiled at both of them. “Well, in that case, I came up with a name,” she started. “What do you both think of ‘Sweetwood & Weasley’s Mood Swing Macarons?’”  
Fred and George exchanged a look between the two of them before turning to look at their newest business partner.   
George shot a confident smile toward Willow as he said, “I told you there was something special about her, Freddie.”   
☆☆☆


	13. Familiar Farmlands

Willow never doubted that Angelina and Juliet were meant to be. No matter how many times Juliet had come crying to her over a breakup, there was always a feeling in her body that told her it wouldn't last. And it seems like she was exactly right.

Her day had ended yesterday with a goodbye to the twins and a night of good sleep decorated with images of red hair. But she was awoken this morning by her roommate finally returning from Angelina's house.

Just like a few weeks ago, Juliet had busted into a sleeping Willow's room. She had thrown on the lights then plopped into the armchair in the corner before diving into everything she needed to say.

Willow and Bartholomew now sat on her bed, eyes half-open, as Juliet described, often in too much detail, exactly how her week had gone. Willow learned about the late nights they spent talking over everything in life that had lead them to where they are now.

She learned about Angelina's new job as an Assitant Coach for the Kenmare Kestrels and how it allowed her to be able to travel more, so maybe things between Juliet and her may work out this time. She learned about Angelina's father, about his health, and how he was doing better some days but worse the next. And she learned about the "adorable" way that Angelina's eyes still scrunched up when she smiled.

Juliet seemed to be falling in love with Angelina more today than she had during their three-year on-again-off-again relationship at Hogwarts. And Willow, truly, could not be happier for her. She knew that, deep down, the two of them would always find their way back to each other.

The duo had ended their time at Hogwarts broken up, thinking that they both had their differing ambitions so it was never going to work out in the real world. But now that the two of them were much more settled in their post-Hogwarts life, they wanted to give it another go.

This also wasn't the last that the girls would see of Angelina this week. While she had the last two weeks off, Quidditch season was supposed to start next week, so she had to travel back to Ireland to help prepare. Her last day in London was on Sunday, and she was choosing to spend it with Willow, Juliet, Lee, Fred, and George. The group was set to have dinner on Sunday night, the day after Willow was to see her family.

She was happy as she watched Juliet talk about living with Angelina the last while, however, Willow picked up on the fact that they had not officially gotten back together as Juliet carefully danced around using the word "girlfriend" when retelling her stories. And Willow wasn't one to pry too much when she could tell that Juliet didn't want to talk about something, so she let her be.

But Juliet was the opposite. It was obvious by the way that the moment her story was over, the next words out of her mouth were, "So, have you fucked George yet? Angelina and I have a bet about how long it's going to take."

"Jules, oh my, Merlin," Willow responded.

"What? It is a totally valid question."

Willow sighed as she laid back on her bed. "Is it really?"

Juliet slipped her shoes off before standing up to climb into the bed with the other two. She grabbed Bartholomew, who snuggled back into his mother's arms, before leaning on the wall and looking to Willow.

"Answer my question," she insisted.

Willow sat up and scooted her back to the headboard before responding, "No, of course, we haven't had sex yet."

Juliet rolled her eyes. "I don't see why the 'of course' is needed. It's very obvious he wants to fuck you, Willie."

After smacking her friend's arm, Willow retold the events of last night's meeting in as great detail she could. Juliet shifted from laughing at them yelling in the streets to being offended over Fred's name change attempt to cooing over George having Willow wish on an eyelash.

"Please, that was totally just an excuse to touch your face and you know it," Juliet insisted. "You should have, like, sucked his finger while it was that close to your face."

Willow shot her a bewildered look. "I should have what?"

"You know, sucked his finger," Juliet defended. "He was practically begging you to by getting that close."

"Yeah, I'm not so sure that's what his end goal was," Willow started. "I think he would have left the room if I had put his finger in my mouth."

"You're right. He would have left the room to go jack off, or something, because of how turned on you'd made him."

As Juliet laughed at her own joke, Willow rubbed her hands on her face in a final attempt to fully wake herself up. She rotated her head and stretched out her arms as her joints were finally ready to move. Willow swung her legs over the side of the bed, but, before she was able to get up, Juliet spoke again.

"So what about Dean?"

Willow froze. "Uh, what about him?"

Juliet narrowed her eyes. "Now isn't the time to play dumb, Willow."

"He came over, we had a casual conversation, and we mutually agreed to not go any further because we're both just too busy right now," she lied.  
"So, is there a particular reason why I don't believe that's what happened?" Juliet questioned.

Willow glanced down at her hands as her pointer finger began to pick at the hangnail on her thumb. "I'm not sure why you don't believe me."

Juliet glanced at Willow and then down at the way her hands were anxiously moving around before deciding that, for once, she was going to let the subject go. It was obvious that that something had happened with Dean that Willow didn't want to talk about, and, as much as she cares for her friend, Juliet still knew when to drop a subject.

"Well, if that's what you say happened, I guess it's what happened," Juliet finally said, breaking the awkward silence.

Willow let out the breath she was holding in anticipation of Juliet's questioning. She looked over to her friend with a sense of relief, then watched as Juliet glanced over at the clock on Willow's nightstand.

"It's nearly eleven, I think I'm going to go downstairs to check for the mail," Juliet said, moving to the edge of the bed where she let Bartholomew out of her arms.

She then disappeared out of the room with the cat on her heels. Once she was gone, Willow laid back on her bed as she thought forward to the weekend.

Something was looming in her mind about going home. She had a gut feeling that something was going to happen while she was back in Kings Hill, and she wasn't yet sure if it was going to be good or bad news.

Before her mind continued to drag down her mood, she thought about the previous night spent with the twins. It was one of the first times since she'd met them that she felt truly comfortable around them. And while being that close to George during more than one occasion throughout the night made her nervous, it was starting to turn into an exciting type of nervousness.

Willow still didn't know what the future held for herself in basically any aspect of her life, but she was starting to think that she could see George as a new addition. Maybe he was the missing piece of her puzzle that would finally move everything into place? Only time would tell.

As Willow continued to lay in bed, she heard the back door open as Juliet reentered their apartment. She sat up once she had come back into her room. Juliet tossed a few envelopes on the bed and stopped in the doorway of their bathroom.

"My parents are already writing to me to ask when I'll be home next," she sighed, leaning against the doorframe and holding an opened letter in one hand. "I move countries and yet my mother still needs to know my every move."

Willow leaned toward the end of the bed to pick up her mail as she responded, "It's not like it's so difficult for you to go home, Jules. I'm sure they just miss you."

Juliet rolled her eyes. "Yes, I'm aware of that. It's just frustrating that they still think I can't be independent."

Before Willow had a chance to respond, Juliet mumbled something about needing to take a shower. The bathroom door was soon closed behind her, but Willow never heard the water turn on.

Juliet had always had a difficult relationship with her parents. Just like Willow, she was a half-blood. Her father was a wizard, her mom a muggle, and Juliet was the only child they'd had. Her mom had grown up in Scotland and met Juliet's dad when he had moved there shortly after graduating from South Korea's wizarding school.

The two of them had very differing beliefs in raising a child, which caused Juliet to grow up in a very strained household. Lately, their relationship had seemed to be better than it had been in the past few years, but Willow knew that her parent's marriage was a constant worry in her friend's mind. Juliet often felt like she needed to go out of her way to please them both in any way possible.

Just then, Willow heard loud music coming from the other side of the wall, signaling that Juliet was probably in her room attempting to get her mind off whatever was in the letter from her parents. Which reminded Willow that she still had mail to look at.

She began to shuffle through the stack of envelopes in her hands. The first few were all junk mail addressed to the previous owners of the building, she placed aside a coupon for a London-based clothing store, and finally rolled her eyes at the white envelope left.

For this one, he had taken the time to sketch two monkeys in the corner of the envelope, obviously an attempt to coax her into responding. But Willow merely scoffed as she tossed the envelope onto the floor next to her dresser. It landed haphazardly next to the other seven white envelopes, all decorated with a small doodle.

She groaned while she looked over the small pile. Then she finally stood up to stretch her entire body at once. As she was leaning over to touch the ground, Willow noticed a purple envelope sticking slightly out from under her bed. She reached out to grab it before settling on the floor of her bedroom.

Just like always, 'Ms. Sweetwood' was scribbled across the front of it. She wasted no time in ripping open the letter. Once she had unfolded it, she read:

Willow,

Thank you for the great meal and ideas last night. Fred and I are really looking forward to working more with you. If we want the product to be out by February, we're going to have to get a move on. This means meeting more frequently to start testing recipes.

I'm free anytime next week, so just let me know what's going to work for you. I'm excited for what the future holds for us, Willow.

George

(your neighbor)

Without thinking, Willow heard herself giggle over the letter in her hands. She froze as the realization of what she had just done washed over her. Giggling over a boy in her twenties was not something she wanted to be doing.

But everything George did made her giddy, and she was starting to get tired of denying it to herself and everyone around her.

☆☆☆

Willow glanced over the ticket in her hand one last time before rereading the digital board on the wall above her. She shoved her sleeve up her arm to check the time on her watch one last time before turning on her heel and heading towards the opposite end of King's Cross Station.

She tucked her tote bag under her arm as she weaved in between the hundreds of muggles rushing about the station. Her train home was scheduled to leave at 3:47 p.m. and the watch on her wrist read 3:33, so Willow only had a limited amount of time to make it to the platform.

As she neared closer to the large sign reading "Platform 7," Willow's excitement grew in her stomach. She hadn't been able to see her family in weeks, so she was very ready to get on the train and be home for the night.

As she finally reached the line to get onto her train, she was able to breathe properly again. Willow anxiously shifted on her feet as the line in front of her slowly shrunk. Once she was able to hand over her ticket to the attendant, she stepped onto the small train and made her way to a free area.

Willow settled into the hard seat just as the train lurched forward. The journey was going to take a little over an hour, so Willow had brought along a book to bide her time.

After pulling out her reading material, she reached her hand back into the bag to grab her cellphone. She quickly typed her father's number in before holding the phone up to her ear. However, she was met with a busy signal just as the train entered the first of several tunnels.

She knew her dad was going to be mad that she was not able to call and tell him she made it on the train, but it was out of her hands at her point. As Willow glanced out the window at the passing scenery she became lost in her thoughts.

Nicholas Sweetwood had always been a simple man. He had grown up in Kings Hill, raised a family in Kings Hill, and would probably die in Kings Hill if he had anything to do with it.

Once his mother had gotten sick a few years back, Willow's parents had decided to move into her grandparent's house to provide around-the-clock care for her. Nicholas works as the City Manager of their small town and Edith works mostly from home as a freelance artist, so the two of them had no qualms with moving.

Her parents had met during her mother's seventh year at Hogwarts. Shortly after she had graduated, the two of them got pregnant with Willow's older brothers, Leo and Mitchell. They continued to raise the twins while her father went to a local university. A few years later, they gave birth to Willow and got married just a year after.

Things hadn't always been easy on her parents, which is why she spent so much time with her grandmother. Almost every other day was spent at their house baking, playing in the backyard, or listening to her grandfather drone on about types of carrots. They were her second set of parents growing up.

Willow was thankful for a lot of things in life, but her family was always going to be at the top of the list. She had grown up in the most loving household she could imagine, and she knew she was lucky for it.

☆☆☆

The rest of her train ride had gone uneventful. Willow had spent the majority of it daydreaming or reading a few pages of the book in her hands. So once the train finally pulled into the Kings Hill station, she was glad to be done.

She quickly shoved everything into her tote bag and hurried out of the train. Willow walked out toward the exit of the station as she looked for her father's car. He had told her last night that he would be waiting at the front of the station once she got there.

Just as she was giving up, her eyes locked on to the familiar grey minivan pulling up a few feet away from her. Willow sprinted towards the car just as her dad was stepping out of the driver's seat and onto the sidewalk. He wasn't given a chance to get his bearings before his daughter engulfed him in a hug.

The two of them stood next to the car for a few brief moments as they continued their embrace. Eventually, they broke away as her dad wiped a few stray tears from his eyes.

Willow laughed as she rounded the corner of the car before climbing into the passenger seat. Her dad reentered the car soon after, and in a matter of minutes, they were off toward their house, chatting about everything that happened since Willow moved out.

"You know it's only been a few weeks, dad," Willow started, reaching to turn down the radio. "Why are you crying?"

Her father chuckled. "You're my baby girl, Willow. You can be gone for an hour and I'm still going to miss you."

Willow smiled at her father before turning to watch the farmlands pass by the window as the car barreled down the country roads. It was only a short drive from the train station to the family home, and the ride was filled with small conversation about how safe Willow felt living in her flat and what they were having for dinner that night.

By the time her dad had turned down the long driveway leading to the house, Willow had heard every single self-defense tactic known to man. If anyone wanted to try anything on her, she was going to be prepared with a fist thanks to her father.

Right as the minivan pulled up behind her grandfather's tiny red car, the front door to her grandparent's house swung open. A large, brown dog came barrelling down the front steps followed quickly behind Willow's mother. Just as she opened the passenger door, the Bullmastiff attempted to leap into Willow's lap.

"Oh, my Merlin!" she struggled to say as the dog continued to lick her face, its back legs slipping out of her lap.

"Polly! Get off Willow!" her mom shouted, running to grab the dog's collar.

Willow attempted to help her mother push the large dog off her lap as her dad rounded the front of the car. Once he took over for his wife, he managed to pull Polly off his daughter. Willow was finally able to stand up to greet her mother before the three of them made their way into the house.

She spent the next hour helping her grandmother prepare the lasagna for dinner tonight, fielding questions from everyone about her love life, and just appreciating the smallest moments of being at home with her family. Shortly before dinner was ready to come out of the oven, Leo, Mitchell, and Taylor got there.

Willow was soon fighting for her life in the kitchen as she fended off the greedy hands of her brothers while they both attempted to steal bits of everything the women had been working on. Leo ended up getting yelled at by Nana for trying to steal a snack from the cabinet, and, shortly after, everyone but Willow was banned from the kitchen.

Once they heard the loud chatter move to the living room, Willow and Nana laughed over everyone's antics. "Even at twenty-six, it doesn't seem like your brothers are ever going to mature," Nana breathed out.

"I'm sure they will before they die," Willow joked. "I think Taylor has been good for Mitchell, though. In the last three years, I've seen a lot of changes in him."

"That is until you get a few beers in him and he's once more trying to ride my poor Polly around in the backyard," Nana retorted, rolling her eyes.

The oven's timer soon dinged after that, so only Willow's mom was allowed back in the kitchen to help serve the table. So once everyone had settled in the dining room, Willow and her mother brought out the large lasagna dish and a salad. Willow began to pass around the bottle of red wine Taylor and Mitchell had brought.

Once her dad had taken a sip, he questioned, "Where did you both get this bottle? I don't recognize the winery."

"Oh, that's from this gorgeous place over in America," Taylor responded, handing the bottle to Nick. "Mitchell and I were there recently. That's actually where we–"

"Uh! Willow! How's the bakery going?" Mitchell interrupted, cutting the end of Taylor's sentence off.

Willow averted her gaze from Polly, who was currently using her size to her advantage as she quietly slipped bits of Papa's lasagna off his plate, to look over at her brother. "Huh?" she gasped.

"Open your ears, Lolo," Leo interjected. "What's up with the bakery?"

Willow stuck her tongue out at her brother before saying, "Oh, it's going fine I suppose. It's not like anything exciting is going to really happen until opening."

"And when is opening day, my dear?" Papa questioned from the other end of the table as he patted Polly's head.

"Well, the tentative date is Valentine's Day," she explained, using her fork to push around the leaves of lettuce on her plate.

Willow glanced towards her grandmother as she heard her clear her throat.

"I feel like all we ever talk about is Willow," she announced. "I want to hear more about your next book, Taylor." Nana winked at Willow who shot her a thankful look before the family turned its attention to Taylor.

Dinner went smoothly the rest of the night. Once everyone had finished the food on their plates, they cleaned up the table before Willow began serving the chocolate cake she had brought.

Her family sat around the fireplace as they tucked into the large slices of cake on the plates, only stopping to shoot the occasional compliment toward Willow. Her mother was currently describing her latest painting that she had been working on, asking if Willow would come to see it before she left later tonight. But Willow was only half listening to her mother, as she was too distracted by watching Taylor and Mitchell engage in a whispered fight on the loveseat opposite her's.

She watched as Taylor finally turned away from her brother, a smug smile on his face. It seemed as though he had won whatever argument the two had been having. Soon after, Taylor cleared his throat to grab the attention of the others.

"So, Mitchell and I want to tell you why we were in California last month," he started, placing a hand on Mitchell's bouncing leg.

"Taylor and I got married!" Mitchell suddenly blurted out, catching everyone by surprise.

"Married?" Willow's mother choked out.

"Well, that wasn't exactly the grand way I had planned to tell you all," Taylor said, glancing over at his embarrassed husband. "But yes. We went to Napa Valley and got married last month. It was just the two of us, and it was everything we always wanted."

"Oh, great. Now I'm gonna have to get married soon," Leo complained, leaning back into his chair.

Nana was quick to smack his leg. "Be happy for your brother, Leo. He's doing what you cannot."

This quickly spiraled into a family argument with Nana and Willow's mother on one side and Leo and their father on the other. Willow watched in amusement as he attempted to defend himself against the brigade of Nana's questions. Ignoring the yelling, Papa and Mitchell began to discuss the pond a few miles down the road where they used to go fishing.

She glanced over at Taylor who motioned his head toward the back door. Willow nodded before grabbing her empty plate and glass to meet Taylor in the kitchen.

Once they had placed their dirty dishes in the sink and refilled their wine glasses, the duo made their way out the backdoor where they found a seat on the patio furniture. Soon after they had settled, Willow rose again to turn on the nearby heater. As she was making her way back to the seat, she heard Taylor speak.

"Are you mad we got married without telling you?"

Willow laughed. "No, of course, I'm not mad. It's not my life."

"You can be the first to know since Leo interrupted our announcement, but we still plan on having a big party with all our family and friends just before Christmas," Taylor excitedly explained. "It was more important for us to be alone when we got married, but we still want a time to celebrate with everyone."

"Oh, you know I'll be there," Willow emphasized. "I'm sure Mitchell will let the rest of them know, too."

Taylor sighed as he placed his wine glass to his lips. "I feel bad about abandoning Mitchell in there. I'm sure the conversation will quickly turn back to him once Nana gets tired of yelling at Leo."

"Mitchell's a grown man, he can stand up for himself against Nana," Willow insisted.

"You know you're the only one allowed to say that, Willow," Taylor pointed out. "I don't think you can do any wrong to her."

"She'll get pissed when I wuss out on opening the bakery."

Taylor turned his head to look at her, his face twisted in confusion. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She played with the hem of her shirt as she looked everywhere but Taylor's eyes.

"Hello? Willow, what the fuck are you saying?"

"It's nothing, I promise," she finally answered. "I've just been very stressed out over everything in my life. Nothing seems to be going the way I expected."

Taylor placed a hand on Willow's leg. "Well, isn't that the point of life? I don't think you can ever really expect it to go the way you want it to."

"Life seems to really be fucking with me lately," Willow sighed. "You won't believe who I hooked up with a couple of weeks ago."

Taylor and Willow spent the next while talking about everything that had happened over the past few weeks. When it was all said and done, she couldn't help but be in shock about how quickly her life had been moving. It seemed like she had just moved in, but, in reality, everything had happened over a few weeks. It was no wonder she panicked about going too quickly with George.

"I think you made the right decision with Dean," Taylor finally said. "Even if he does keep sending you those letters, it doesn't seem like he's mature enough for whatever he thinks he wants out of you."

"And what about George?"

Taylor tilted his head. "Well, what's wrong with just having sex with a man you think is attractive?"

"I've never done that, Taylor," Willow reminded him. "Dean's the only guy I've ever had sex with, and everything else I've done with someone has been when I thought we were going somewhere."

"So then maybe now's the time to try it out," he pointed out.

"But what if I end up wanting more than sex?" Willow questioned.

Taylor smiled. "Would that really be such a bad thing?"

"It would be if he didn't feel the same way!"

Taylor laughed. "Look, I obviously don't know every detail about everything, but the way you talk about this George guy makes me think that you're interested in more than just sex. And it also kind of seems like he may be, too."

Willow sunk back into the couch she was sitting on. "That seems to be the only thing people can tell me nowadays."

After taking a sip from his wine, Taylor responded, "Well, maybe it's time you start listening."

☆☆☆


	14. Boundaries

The afternoon after dinner with her family, Willow stared at herself in the mirror. She was turning to look at her body in the short-sleeved sweater dress she had just purchased. Her father had convinced her to Apparate home last night, citing that it was the only trustworthy bit of magic she had and much safer than a train, so she was able to get more sleep last night than she thought she would.

This meant that she was awake early this morning. So Willow had grabbed the coupon from yesterday's mail to venture into the city. She had gotten the dark purple dress on sale, but she was now struggling to convince herself that it wasn't too tight on her hips.

After fidgeting for a few more moments, Willow decided to pull on a pair of sheer black tights in an attempt to smooth her body under the dress. Once she was pleased with her reflection, she put on a pair of gold studs and slipped her feet into her pair of platform Mary Jane's.

After taking one last glance in her mirror, she grabbed her bag and made her way out to the living area. As soon as she exited her room, she stopped in her tracks as she saw Juliet and Angelina canoodling by the doorway.

The two of them quickly broke apart at the appearance of Willow, unable to look at each other, let alone her. Willow laughed before speaking up.

"You both do realize I had to deal with this for three years at Hogwarts anyway," she reassured. "I'm happy for the two of you."

Juliet blushed a deep red as Angelina responded, "Uh, well, anyway. I think it's time to meet the boys."

Willow laughed as both of them gathered their things before making their way downstairs and out the front door. She paused on the front steps to breathe in the November air, before making her way towards the restaurant Angelina had picked out.

It was only a short journey to the quaint Mexican place they were meeting Lee, Fred, and George at. Willow walked a few steps behind Juliet and Angelina the entire time, allowing them to have their last few moments together before Angelina leaves town. She couldn't contain the smile on her face as she watched their pinkies intertwine while they walked.

As they strolled up to the beige building, mariachi music could be heard pouring out of the wide-open windows lining the London streets. The three girls made their way inside and past the hostess once she had pointed out the half-empty table for six in the corner of the restaurant.

As they weaved their bodies through the tables and people, Lee began to wildly wave at the trio. And by the time they had made their way to the group, George had stood up at the sight of Willow.

The two stared at each other for a brief moment before Juliet had shoved Willow towards her chair, and Fred had yanked his brother back to his spot. Lee rolled his eyes at the both of them before Willow took the seat opposite his at the head of the table. She settled into the hard plastic chair as she glanced over to a blushing George on her right.

Now that their entire group was there, a waitress soon came by to take their drink orders and then food shortly after. So once the menus were cleared and everyone had a soda or glass of water, the conversation started.

"So, Willow," Lee began, grabbing the attention of the table. "Heard you've been working very closely with my boys lately. Well...one of my boys at least."

"Shut up, Lee," George answered. "She's going to bring more business to the store than you ever have, and you're just jealous."

Lee's eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to cause a scene, but Fred quickly cut him off. "How's Fredric, Juliet?" he questioned.

"I think you mean to ask me, 'how's Bartholomew,' Fred," she challenged.

Fred laughed. "I'm pretty sure he sided with me in the end."

"Am I understanding this correctly?" Angelina interrupted. "Did you try to rename Julie's cat, Fred?"

He shifted his narrowed eyes away from Juliet and to the girl across from him before responding, "I didn't just try, Angie. I did change his name."

Juliet rolled her eyes. "You can't rename a five-year-old cat, Fred. Get your own if you want to give it a stupid name."

Lee placed a hand in the air. "Hold on, are you attempting to argue that naming a cat Bartholomew isn't stupid?"

"And renaming it Fredric is any better?" George chimed in.

"My cat does not have a stupid name, you guys!" an exasperated Juliet spat out.

The table murmured in disagreement, but soon after the subject was changed to Angelina talking about what it was like to work for the Irish Quidditch team.

Since it was not a subject Willow was particularly interested in, she felt herself began to space out as she stared at the various families out to lunch at the tables surrounding them. She was watching a small woman spoon-feed one of the largest babies she had ever seen when she felt a tap on her arm. Willow whipped her head around to see George staring at her.

"I had a question," he said, where only she could hear.

"What's up?"

"Are you busy tonight?" he questioned.

"Uh–I mean, um. I-in what context?" she sputtered out.

George let out a small chuckle. "In the context of being free to work on the macaron recipes," he said. "What other context is there?"

Willow's face grew warm as she felt the fleeting hope that he was about to ask her out fizzle away. She sighed before responding, "Yes, I am free tonight. You're welcome to come over."

George grinned back at her. "You don't seem thrilled, so hopefully we can change that by tonight."

"I'm always thrilled to spend time with you guys," she said, rolling her eyes. "Speaking of, how are all three owners of Weasley & Weasley out for lunch on a busy Sunday?"

"I guess I'm taking a break from my booming business, just like you asked," he smirked.

Their food arrived soon after that, ceasing conversation for a moment as everyone tucked into the steaming dishes in front of them. The group continued to eat as they talked about everything from television to Lee's date last week. As they neared the end of the meal, Willow was surprised to see both twins nod to each other before excusing themselves from the table.

She watched as they headed for the exit before turning back to Lee and Angelina. "What was that about? Trying to leave us with the bill?" she joked.

"Ugh, they're probably out there for a smoke," Angelina sighed.

"A smoke? As in cigarettes?" Willow questioned, feeling her stomach drop.

Angelina and Lee nodded their heads as Juliet asked, "How long have they been doing that for? It doesn't seem like them."

"I think it started back when they first opened the shop," Angelina explained. "They like to claim they only ever do it when they're stressed."

Willow exchanged a worried glance with Juliet. "Well, it doesn't seem like anything is happening right now to stress them out."

"Don't worry, Angie and me agree. It's a super gross habit," Lee asserted. "Although, you can't deny it turns the ladies on. Amiright, Willow?"

Willow was busy watching the backs of the twins as clouds of smoke emerged to surround them. She swallowed hard as she began to instinctively pick at her nail bed.

"Willow?" Lee said, interrupting her worrisome train of thought.

"Hm?" she said, turning her attention back to the table. "Oh, uh, I don't know about that, ha-ha..."

Lee opened his mouth to question her odd behavior and forced laughter, but Angelina quickly stomped on his foot, tearing his attention away from Willow. The twins returned inside a few moments later, the faint scent of tobacco clinging to their clothing.

Lunch concluded soon after that. The twins offered to pay for everyone as a going-away present to Angelina, so the whole group was in a good mood as they left the restaurant to start heading home.

They hadn't made it more than a few feet out of there before Angelina and Juliet stopped to tell the group they wanted to walk around London a little bit longer before Angelina was truly going to have to leave. The other four said a quick goodbye to her before everyone turned to go their own way.

Willow, Lee, Fred, and George made the short walk back to Diagon Alley together. By the time they made it to the street outside of her bakery, Willow was convinced she was going to need stitches in her stomach from laughing so hard at the three of them.

She stood on her first step as George pointed to the brand new sign hanging above her front door. It was a large, circular wooden sign, stained white with beautiful pink cursive that spelled out "Sweetwood's" across the top.

"Looks like you're officially a business now," George joked.

Willow smiled up at him. "I suppose that's so, no going back now."

"So are we still on for tonight?" George questioned.

Lee and Fred, who were standing a few feet away, perked up at the mention of a meeting.

"You guys are meeting tonight?" Lee questioned. "Well, I can come, too. I'm free tonight."

Willow began to begrudgingly agree, but before she could start her sentence, Fred had placed Lee in a headlock and was dragging him across the street to their apartment. She watched as Lee struggled against Fred's large bicep, yelling something about size disadvantages before they disappeared inside the door.

George turned his attention back to her. "So, tonight? Just the two of us."

Willow felt a soft smile play at her lips. "Tonight."

She watched as George debated something in his head, his gaze seeming to flicker between her eyes and mouth. But, after choosing to do nothing, he bid Willow a goodbye and turned towards his own home.

☆☆☆

Willow and Juliet's forks scraped against their plates as they sat at the kitchen table a few hours later to eat dinner. The Ahns had sent another care package this afternoon, and, instead of her dad's usual Korean cooking, this one had all of Juliet's mother's favorite Scottish dishes. The girls were currently enjoying a large piece a baked salmon with some vegetables.

"If there's one thing your mum can do, it's cook," Willow said, taking a sip of her water.

Juliet laughed. "Yeah, it seems to be the only thing she can do correctly."

"Juliet!" Willow gasped. "You don't mean that."

"Sometimes I do," Juliet sighed.

Willow pushed the green vegetables around on her plate as she watched Juliet bend down to feed Bartholomew a small piece of fish.

"Do you think you're going to see them sometime soon?"

Juliet turned back to look at Willow. "I mean, I suppose I have to. It's the only way to get them off my back."

Willow nodded before turning back to her plate. "Want to hear some good news?"

"Yes, please tell me something good," Juliet smiled.

"Mitchell and Taylor got married!"

"You're joking!" Juliet choked out. "It's about damn time."

"Tell that to my mum," Willow joked. "But, anyway, they're throwing a grand party in December, and you'll be my date, I hope."

"That sounds like fun," Juliet started. "But if you change your mind and decide to bring a certain ginger boy, I won't be offended."

Willow rolled her eyes. "Remember the Yule Ball? You're the only date I want to bring to things."

"Hm, well, you say that now..." Juliet trailed off, smirking at her friend.

Willow merely rolled her eyes as she stood up to clear her plate. Once she had scrubbed the dish in the sink and placed it on the counter space to dry, she grabbed her water glass and made her way toward the back door.

Juliet whipped her head around to watch her leave. "Wait, where are you going?"

"Oh, I forgot to mention it," Willow said, turning back to sheepishly look at Juliet. "I have to go downstairs for a little bit because George is coming over to work on the macarons."

Failing to conceal her smile, Juliet responded, "Do I need to leave the apartment, so you two can have privacy?"

"I can assure you that nothing is going to happen, Jules," Willow remarked, rolling her eyes. "This meeting is for business purposes."

"Yeah, the business of getting in each other's pants," Juliet jabbed.

Willow didn't hesitate to throw the cat toy laying at her feet at Juliet. She ducked just in time for it to thud against the kitchen island.

"You're just mad because you know I'm telling the truth," Juliet said, sticking her tongue out to Willow. "Don't forget to pop a mint in so you can conceal that fish breath!"

Choosing not to respond, Willow turned on her heel before walking down the back steps to the kitchen. Once she had made it, she busied herself with gathering all the tools and ingredients they were going to need tonight. Heeding Juliet's advice, she also grabbed a mint out of her office. Just as she was setting out the last bowl, she heard three sharp knocks on the front door.

She quickly glanced at herself in the glass of the oven before smoothing down her dress and making her way to the front. Willow waved at a waiting George as she rushed to let him in. After unlocking the door, she welcomed him inside.

"Long time, no see, Willow," he joked, stepping into the bakery. He was wearing a different outfit from earlier, this time dressed in a dark grey jumper, a pair of dark-wash jeans, and the same Chucks as always.

Careful to not get caught gawking, Willow rushed out a greeting, "Uh, yes. Hi, George."

He smiled down at her before turning his attention to the rest of the room. "You've really made a lot of progress in here, y'know?"

Willow lightly laughed as she closed and locked the door. "You're too kind to me. I barely see it as any different from when I bought it.

"Trust me, you didn't see the sorry state this place used to be in," George reassured, turning back to Willow. "Anything is an upgrade from that place, but you've managed to give it, like, fifty upgrades."

Willow smiled at the ground in response to the compliment before motioning toward the kitchen. "Well, shall we get started? I wasn't sure if you had a plan for tonight, but I assumed we'd be baking."

"Baking sounds perfect," George responded, following her into the kitchen.

Willow quickly explained to him the basic process of making a macaron. She stopped to answer questions when he had them, but for the most part, it was just her giving out instructions.

It was then George's turn to explain how the twins had figured out a way to keep all their sweets fresh. He refused to give Willow the exact process, citing it as a "Weasley Secret," but showed off the powder they needed to incorporate into the batter at some point. He explained that the macarons would merely be charmed with the mood-changers, so they didn't have to worry about anything but the flavor just yet. Soon after, the two got to work.

Each of them had been tasked with making a different flavor to test out. Willow had settled on giving George the easier flavor–chocolate–to start with while she worked on the potential raspberry flavor. Willow was able to follow the recipe from memory, but George had to pause their conversation every so often to peer down at the small index card in front of him.

As she began to beat the egg whites in her bowl, she watched as George was carefully measuring out the flour. He seemed to be cross-checking his recipe at least six times with each new ingredient.

"So, where's Fred?" she finally questioned.

George glanced up from his measurements. "He's supposed to be on a date."

"Oh," she started. "Seems like he goes on a lot of those."

He lifted an eyebrow. "Are you judging my brother, Willow?"

Her eyes widened as she paused her stirring. "Oh, my Merlin! No, of course, I'm not. I was just making an observation to break the tension."

"Well, consider the tension broken," he laughed. "And it's a correct observation, don't worry."

Willow let out a breath before returning to the egg whites in her bowl. "So who's the lucky lady?"

"Some girl named Elizabeth," he said. "Never met her, so I'm not sure much about her. But this is the third time they've hung out in a week."

"That's exciting."

"I suppose if you find my brother's dating life exciting it is," he stated.

"Oh, well I didn't really mean it like th–"

George chuckled. "You make it too easy to mess with you, Willow."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, maybe next time I ask a question you can just respond and not be sassy."

"Ask the next question and I'll decide if it's worth a real answer."

Willow thought for a moment before speaking up, "Okay, how about telling me where Lee is. He seemed like he wanted to come to this meeting."

George looked at Willow from across the counter. "Lee isn't allowed to help with products anymore."

Willow opened her mouth to question him further, but he beat her to speaking, "We don't let him help with the development process, that is. He gets a little too excited sometimes, so it's easier to work on things alone. Lee is more of an idea-haver and a people person while working in the store."

"I thought you were all people-persons," she said, scraping the raspberry flavoring into the stiff peaks in her bowl.

"Well, Fred and Lee for sure are, so by association everyone assumes Fred's twin will be, too," he explained as he began to beat his egg whites. "The two of them don't have to think much before words come out of their mouths, which comes off as being very sociable. I can get like that too, but I prefer to think before I blurt out whatever comes to mind. But it doesn't matter for them because everyone's always going to love the 'funny guy' in the room."

"I think you're funny," Willow insisted.

George let out a soft laugh. "Thank you. I work in a joke shop, so I'd like to think so, too."

Willow rolled her eyes as she dumped the flour mixture into her deep red egg whites. "You know what I mean."

"Do I?"

"I don't think you're giving yourself enough credit, George," she confessed. "You're more than just 'Fred's twin.'"

George then quieted as he turned his attention back to the bowl on the counter. Willow watched him avoid eye contact for a few moments before breaking the silence.

"Have I overstepped my boundaries?"

George looked up, finally making eye contact. "Godric, no. I think I need to hear that sometimes, honestly," he started. "I have a problem with letting myself get overshadowed, I think. I'm actually trying to be bolder in my personal life nowadays."

Willow raised her eyebrows at him. It looked like, for a moment, George was going to say something, but he quickly lowered his blushing face. She swallowed hard as she finished mixing her batter.

"Well, now it's time to play the waiting game," she declared. "Do you need any help?"

"No, I think I'm only a step behind you, so I'll also be setting my batter aside in a moment," George said, once again reading over the recipe card.

Willow began cleaning her half of the counter space as George finished up his batter. Once he had reached the same step as her, he wiped down his area before the two of them hopped onto the counter to relax while they waited.

Willow watched George play with a ring on his pointer finger. She had never noticed it before, but she quickly averted her gaze as she felt George's eyes watching her.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him scoot his body closer to her's as he spoke, "Since you've made observations about my brother and me, I think it's my turn."

Glancing over at him, she responded, "Okay, what do you have to say about me?"

"I don't know what your real relationship is with Dean, but I think you're too good for him," George rushed out, twiddling with the wand on the counter next to him.

"That's a bold statement to make with exactly zero background information," Willow answered, raising her eyebrows.

"Well, then tell me the background information I need to know," he said. "If you feel comfortable, that is."

Willow felt her pointer finger move to pick at the skin around her thumbnail before she sighed, "Seeing as though I have nothing better to talk about, and I am also trying to be bolder, I'll tell you."

George smiled at her before leaning his body on his right arm, his left hand still playing with the gold ring.

"Dean and I were very close during our time at Hogwarts, and I always thought I would end up dating him, so I did a lot of things with him I regret," Willow began. "He was there for me through a lot of shit in my life. And, even after I graduated, we kept writing to each other."

Willow paused to take a sip of the cup of water next to her.

"But then the letters on his end became a lot less frequent," she continued. "So I decided to travel to Hogsmeade on a weekend I knew the sixth years would be there. It's embarrassing to retell now, but when I was there I saw him in a booth with..."

"With my sister," George finished.

"Yeah, your sister," she said, shifting her gaze to anything but George. "I saw them, and I pretty much panicked and just kinda ditched him. I had heard rumors they were dating, but since he was still talking and flirting with me, I didn't think they were true. He tried to get in contact with me a lot after that, but I was choosing to distance myself by finally enrolling in culinary school and making a plan to open this place."

George opened his mouth to say something, but Willow held a hand up to signal that she wasn't finished.

"So I hadn't talked to him in years, but then, of course, I happen to run into him in a muggle club a couple of weeks ago," she explained. "And, of course, I ended up doing more regretful things with him. And then, after the stunt he pulled at Angelina's party, he came over here to give the world's worst apology, so I'm back to ignoring him and trying to move on."

The duo sat in silence for a few moments as George seemed to contemplate his next comment. After what felt like forever to Willow, he finally spoke.

"If it's any consolation, Ginny also ended up pretty heartbroken afterward."

"Well, I have no ill feelings toward Ginny," she reassured him. "I'm sure he didn't tell her about me, but at the same time, I wasn't dating him so it's not like he needed to."

"No, I think you both deserved to know about each other," he insisted.

Willow waved a hand in the air in an attempt to shift the conversation. "Well, anyway, why did you want to know so bad?"

George leaned forward. He untucked his legs, extending them across the counter where his feet nearly touched Willow.

"I've seen him come over to your place a few times recently, and I wanted to get your side of the story after his fit."

Willow leaned back on her hands. "Does that mean you're going to get his side, too?"

He let out a small chuckle, "Why would I get the side of the villain?"

Willow rolled her eyes. "He's not a villain, George."

"He sure seems like it," George stated. "I still think you deserve better than him."

"Oh? And what makes you think that? You barely know me," she challenged.

"Do I have to know a person inside and out to recognize when they're special?" he questioned.

"Why do you keep doing that?" she sighed.

"Keep doing what?"

"Calling me special and complimenting me," Willow responded.

George laughed. "So now I'm not allowed to compliment you?"

Willow's face warmed at his question. "I don't know. I guess I'm just not used to it."

She leaned forward to begin picking at her nails again, as she felt George's eyes on her face.

"Can I make another observation?"

"Go ahead," she stated.

George sighed as he settled back on his palms. "You also sell yourself too short."

"Well, you barely know me," she retorted.

"Now it's my turn to ask, why do you keep saying that?" he started. "You can know a person for a month and still pick up on the fact that they're insecure for no reason."

Willow took a deep breath before responding, "What a very bold statement coming from the person I just made a similar observation about."

"Perhaps we were brought together for a reason," he theorized.

Willow tilted her head. "And what reason would that be?"

"To make ourselves more confident in our actions."

"What am I going to do that will help you gain confidence?" she laughed out.

George narrowed his eyes as he leaned forward. "So, based on your comments about Dean, I take it you're single."

"I mean, yes, but why does that matter to what I just asked you?" Willow questioned, a confused look on her face.

"Because I'm about to test our confidence levels."

"Oh really? How's that?" she challenged.

George then slid to the edge of the counter where he hopped off before making his way to the side Willow was sitting on. She turned her body to follow his, her legs now dangling off the counter's edge.

He stopped in front of her body, lightly placing his left hand on her knee. Willow instinctively gasped as his cold touch still seeped through her thin tights.

"Just tell me when you want me to stop," he breathed out, his eyes locked on her's.

Willow felt her head give him a small nod before George began to delicately rub his finger on her knee. It didn't last for long, though, because he was quickly beginning to drag his pointer finger up her thigh.

Willow swallowed as she maintained his eye contact. All the while, her heartbeat was rapidly increasing as his finger grazed past her stomach, and rounded her breast. He then traced up her neck before allowing his touch to linger on her jaw.

George placed his free hand on her other knee. He softly applied pressure to it, as she instinctively parted her legs. Then he quietly wedged himself between them, still not breaking the eye contact, before placing a firm grip on her hip.

"Is it my turn to ask a question?" he murmured.

Willow's face grew warm. "What do you want to know?" she asked in an equally low tone.

"Do you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you?" he whispered.

All Willow could manage to do was nod before she watched George's chest quickly rise and fall. He then closed the space between them, his lips connecting with hers.

Willow snaked her arms around his neck as the hand on her jaw tilted her face upwards to deepen the kiss. It was everything they had both been longing for, which was evident by the way they were both clinging to each other like it was their last day on Earth.

Their lips moved together in a singular fluid motion as George nibbled lightly on her lower lip, causing a gasp to escape in Willow's breath. He took her parted lips as an excuse to slip his tongue into her mouth, quickly intertwining his hand in the hair on her head.

The hand on her hip drifted south to her thigh as she raised her leg upwards, allowing him to press his body further into hers. George rubbed his large hand on her thigh as Willow felt the hem of her dress rising with each upwards motion.

Willow's back was slowly being pushed closer to the counter space below her, so George shifted the hand in her hair to the small of her back to prevent her from falling.

Before she was able to make contact with the counter, she broke the kiss, leaning her head back as she caught her breath. George took this as a chance to plant soft kisses down her neck before he finally pulled his lips off her skin once he reached the collar of her dress.

But George wasn't done touching her quite yet. With this face still buried in the crook of her shoulder, he dragged his nose up the length of her neck. Then planted one final, soft kiss on her lips before he finally picked his head up to look at Willow.

They both took a moment to breathe, the air between them becoming muddled with each other's scent. He smiled down at a breathless Willow, still slightly hovering over her.

George chuckled, "How's that for overstepping my boundaries?"

☆☆☆


	15. About Last Night...

George chuckled, "How's that for overstepping my boundaries?"

Willow shifted her body so she was sitting up once again as she laughed. She dropped her arms from around George's neck, but his hands still stayed on her back and thigh.

"I think we lost any boundaries we may have had a while back, George," she jabbed.

He rolled his eyes, rubbing his thumb on the top of her thigh. Willow watched him blush as he looked down at his hand.

"Well, anyway, I'd been waiting to do that for a while," he murmured.

"Really? I had no idea," she said sarcastically.

George laughed. "Oh, you just know everything about me, don't you?"

Willow felt a small smile play on her lips as her heartbeat began to rise. She took George's hand in hers, causing him to meet her eyes. He smiled at her before she spoke.

"Only what you want me to see," she began. "Or rather, what you want to show me..."

George's eyes seemed to darken at her comment. He shifted his gaze from her eyes to her lips, as if to ask for permission to kiss her again. Willow wasted no time before she had thrown her arm around his neck to pull his lips onto hers once more.

She removed her hand from his, placing it on his strong chest. Willow could feel how quickly his heart was beating, nearly in time with hers, as their lips worked against each other. As he tilted his head toward her, Willow could feel the short bristles of hair on his face scratch against her cheek.

His hand began to rub up her thigh once more, this time daring to dip underneath the fabric. He ran his tongue along her bottom lip, so she opened her mouth allowing him to deepen the kiss. But before she had a chance to fully process his tongue in her mouth, Willow gasped as George's fingers slipped under the hem of her dress.

The tips of his rough fingers quickly traced up the top of her thigh and onto her hip. However, he couldn't seem to figure out how to fully access the skin underneath her tights.

In between kisses, George managed to say, "Willow, why can't I figure out what's going on underneath this tight, little dress of yours?"

She couldn't help the laugh that escaped her mouth, as she pulled away from George's lips. He removed his hand from underneath her dress as he gave her a confused look.

Willow grabbed the hem of her dress, slightly pulling it up to show the band of her tights around her waist. "I'm wearing tights right now, so I'm not sure how easily accessible anything is."

George's eyes scanned her waist before shifting up to meet her gaze again. "Did you know that you were wearing tights this entire time?"

She gave him a questioning look. "Did I know I was wearing tights? I dressed myself, so I think the answer is yes."

He rolled his eyes, "No, I mean you knew I wasn't going to be able to go where I wanted to when my hand went up your dress."

"I may have avoided telling you, just so I could see what you ended up doing," she giggled. "Guess we'll have to save some things for later?"

George smirked down at her. "Ah, so there's a later?"

"I think we should keep working on the macarons," she started, lightly shoving him away from her so she could hop off the counter. "They're very time-sensitive, you know?"

"What if I'm time-sensitive, too?" he asked, gesturing to his lap.

After she walked a few steps away, Willow turned to glance back at him. "Maybe you should have known how tights worked," she teased.

George's mouth fell agape as Willow shot him a mischievous smile. "You're gonna pay for that little comment, Willow."

"Am I?" she innocently began, grabbing the bowl of batter on the counter. "I think you're the one that's currently paying for it."

George playfully rolled his eyes before he rounded the corner of the counter, placing himself on the side opposite hers again. Willow watched as he picked up the recipe card, reading over the instructions for the millionth time. She turned back to her bowl as she began to scoop the batter into her piping bag.

Once she had twenty-four small, red disks on her parchment-lined baking sheet, she paused to watch George struggle to pipe even circles onto his pan. Willow turned to place her dirty bowl in the sink, turning on the hot water in the process. She grabbed the bottle of dish soap to squeeze some into the water before she made her way to the side of the counter that George was working on.

As she quietly approached him, he glanced up at her, batter dripping off his hands and face. Willow lightly laughed at the frustrated look on George's face, coupled with how messy he had made himself.

"Did you get into a fight with the piping bag?" she questioned.

He rolled his eyes before turning back to the sloppily covered sheet pan. "I'm ignoring you right now," he stated.

She titled her head toward him as she gave him a bewildered look. "You're ignoring me?" Willow replied. "Am I allowed to know why?"

"You were mean to me for not knowing how tights worked."

Willow's face continued to twist in confusion. Was it possible that she had already messed everything up with George? In an attempt to push the sinking feeling away and curve her anxiety, she decided to play along with what she hoped was merely him messing with her again.

"Oh please, don't tell me you're actually upset about that."

George straightened his back as he stretched out the fingers that weren't gripping the piping bag. She watched as his ring glinted in the overhead light before shifting her eyes to his batter-covered face.

"Am I not allowed to be?" he started. "I'm over here breaking my back to make these cookies while all I can think about is how different my life would be right now if tights had never existed."

Willow laughed as George pushed his baking sheet toward her. He sighed as he watched her before holding out his pointer finger and squeezing some of the leftovers onto it. He wasted no time in smearing his finger down Willow's cheek, causing her to freeze as the wet concoction dripped down her face.

"You did not just do that," she warned, attempting to rub her face clean.

George licked the batter left on his finger off as he grinned down at her. "I feel better now."

"Oh, I'm sure you do," she rolled her eyes before grabbing a nearby rag to wipe the remaining mixture off. "Now that we can call it even, let's put the macarons in the oven before something else goes array."

Willow threw the rag to him so that he could wipe himself clean before grabbing the two sheet pans and placing them into the warmed oven. She turned to switch the timer on as George placed his used dishes into the soapy water.

"Now it's time for the best part," she said, clasping her hands together.

"Are you gonna take your tights off?" he retorted, tossing the used rag back to her.

"Enough with the tights, Weasley," she sighed. "The best part of the night is washing the dishes!"

George groaned as Willow walked to the sink to join him. The two quickly fell into the rhythm of Willow washing and George rinsing as they continued to laugh and tease each other. Everything was clean in a matter of minutes, so they were left to awkwardly fiddle with the things in front of them in an attempt to seem busy while they waited for the timer to go off.

After a few brief moments, Willow finally broke the silence, "We can always start a new batch while we wait?"

George tore his gaze away from his wand, which he was currently flipping between his fingers, to Willow's eyes. 

"I can think of a lot of things I'd rather do with you than start a new batch of macarons," he confessed.

Willow felt her cheeks warm as she stuttered out a response, "W-well, for a businessman you sure don't seem to care a whole lot about the products."

George lowered his wand, placing it in his back pocket before he began to take small steps toward Willow's spot a few feet away. She felt her back press against the counter as she tried to scoot away from him. But, now directly in front of her, he placed a hand onto the counter behind Willow, leaning his body in.

George titled his face close to hers as he said, "I care a whole lot about the products we sell, but my mind's just been a little cloudy lately with some other things. I'm still waiting for a chance to give you that act two, but maybe this time I can have some assistance?"

Willow felt her hand began to reach out toward him, their eyes locked on each other. But before she could close the gap between them, they heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

"Willow, I hate to interrupt your meeting, but Hannah's just sent me an urgent message asking if I can come work for a few hours. Apparently, Ken–" Willow heard Juliet began, but she quickly stopped as she took in the scene in front of her.

An extremely red George now stood several feet away from Willow, running a nervous hand through his hair as he avoided eye contact with everyone in the room. Willow slowly turned her body to the doorway where her shocked roommate stood, glancing between the guilty party.

"Have I just walked in on something?" Juliet managed to choke out.

Willow rolled her eyes, "Didn't I just hear you were leaving? Sounds like the Cauldron isn't going to make it without you."

Juliet shot her a shocked look. "I suppose you're right, Willie," she said, continuing toward the door. "Please, continue whatever you were doing, I won't judge."

Juliet paused to shoot Willow an exciting look to which she responded to with her middle finger.  
"You guys are no fun," Juliet scoffed, rolling her eyes. "But, lucky for you, I really do need to leave. So goodbye, lovebirds."

Neither Willow nor George moved or made a sound until they heard the bells above the front door jingle, signalling that Juliet had left the building. The room collectively released the breath they were holding before the duo turned back to each other.

"How long do you want to bet until the entirety of Diagon Alley knows what Juliet thinks she saw?" George joked.

Willow rubbed her hands on her face as she answered, "Ugh, I don't even want to think about the conversation I'm going to have to have in the morning with her."

George laughed as he scratched the front of his neck. "I'm sure it won't be too bad. I doubt it's the first time I've been a topic of conversation in your flat."

She rolled her eyes before brushing past him and toward the oven. After pressing the button to turn the oven light on, Willow peered into it at the small macaron disks. Before she was given a chance to turn around, she felt George's body appear behind hers. She kept her gaze forward as George leaned in, placing his lips close to her ear.

"So, does this mean your flat's empty?" he whispered.

Willow couldn't deny the chill that went through her body as his lips softly brushed against her ear while he spoke. She turned so that she was facing him. Then she grabbed the back of his neck, pulling his tall frame down. After leaning toward his right ear, she whispered back, "In your dreams."

George chuckled against her body as he straightened himself up, so that he, once again, towered over her. "How'd you know I dream about you? Been looking out your window again?" he teased.

Willow playfully shoved him, but before she could respond, the timer behind George began to go off. She slipped out of their precarious position to take it and switch it off. Then she grabbed George's wrist to pull him from the spot he remained in.

He smirked down at her, "Already getting a little dominant, are we, Willow?"

She rolled her eyes as she responded, "You were in the way of the oven, smartass."

"Why can't you just let me have a little fun with you, hm?"

"Because I don't want our hard work to burn," she remarked, narrowing her eyes. "And I think I've let you have plenty of fun tonight."

George watched as she pulled on the oven mitts before grabbing the finished macarons from the oven. Willow stood over the cookies, lightly tapping them to ensure their doneness.

"Life can never be too much fun, darling," he finally spoke.

"Can't have fun until you get the work done," she retorted.

George sighed, "I suppose you're right. Freddie'll have my head on a stick if I come back to the apartment with zero progress."

"Exactly," Willow started. "Now what's the next step in making these change your mood?"  
The duo spent the next hour playing around with the various spells that George, Lee, and Fred had come up with to charm the macarons. After multiple failed attempts and a ton of wasted cookies, they had finally narrowed it down to a few possible options, although all of them still needed some work. So, with nothing left for George to use as an excuse to stay, he had left soon after they were done, taking the leftover macarons to study with the other boys at the shop tomorrow.

Willow wasn't sure if it was the confidence charm they'd been working on or the kiss that George had placed on her cheek when he left, but something in the air was making Willow feel excited about whatever the future had in store for her relationship with him. The butterflies in her stomach hadn't stopped all night, but if it meant she got to keep kissing George, Willow would deal with any nerves that came her way.

☆☆☆

The following morning Willow was busy in their small kitchen. She had decided to wake up earlier than she normally would to make breakfast for herself and Juliet. Willow was currently stirring the pale pancake batter in the bowl in front of her, as she kept an eye on the sausages sizzling in the pan behind her.

She hadn't seen Juliet since being walked in on last night with George. After falling asleep around 10 pm, Willow had been slightly awoken at the sound of Juliet getting home from work at around 1 am. She also knew that she was scheduled to go back to work in a few hours, so Juliet was going to be in a possible cranky mood all day.

This had led her to the decision to make them breakfast. Willow was just trying to make Juliet's morning a little easier, and it had nothing to do with trying to make sure she didn't get yelled at.

As she quietly hummed to herself, Willow poured the last spoonfuls of batter into the hot pan. She watched over the pancakes as they began to slightly bubble around the edges. Just as they were nearing the need to be flipped, Willow turned at the sound of Juliet's door being swung open.

"Are you trying to bribe me with pancakes, Willow?"

A half-dressed, messy-haired Juliet stood in the doorway of her room. She had her arms crossed, waiting for Willow to respond.

"Is a person not allowed to make their best friend in the whole world some delicious pancakes with exactly zero alternative motive?" Willow questioned, also crossing her arms.

Juliet laughed as she rolled her eyes. "You're not getting off easy, no matter how hard you try," she began. "Or, wait. Perhaps you already got off easy last night?"

"It's too early for that, Jules," she cautioned. "I'm going back to my pancakes now."

Willow heard her laugh as Juliet continued, "Whatever you say, my dear Willie. I'm taking a shower and then I'll be out to hear all about last night."

After waiting a few moments, Willow glanced over her shoulder to ensure Juliet was gone. She let out a relieved sigh at the sight of her closed-door before placing the final pancakes onto the serving dish. Grabbing the plates of food, Willow made her way to the table where she placed everything out.

Then she waved her wand at the cabinets, causing the cups, plates, and silverware they needed to float out toward the table. After everything settled into its place, she grabbed the juice from their fridge and poured them both a glass. Still needing to wait on Juliet, she settled into one of the chairs.

However, she wasn't settled for long before a white owl was tapping on their kitchen window. She sighed as she stood to greet the bird. After grabbing a small piece of sausage, she cracked open the window where she exchanged the meat for the stack of envelopes in the owl's talons.

It choked down the sausage before leaning out to try and nip at Willow's finger. Distracted by the top envelope, the bird managed to nick one of her knuckles before taking off down the street. She recoiled in pain as she glanced down at the small cut on her hand.

After grabbing a towel on the counter to wrap her hand in, she settled back into the dining chair as she shifted through the stack of mail from the owl. Willow placed the letter addressed to Juliet on her plate, and rolled her eyes at the white envelope still in her hands. Dean had taken the time to sketch a cartoon version of what looked to be the two of them holding hands. She scoffed as she tossed the letter to the other side of the table.

Willow couldn't help but smile down at the final letter in her hands. She tore open the purple envelope before unfolding the familiar parchment. It read:

Willow,

I wanted to write to tell you how excited Lee & Fred were when I showed them what we worked on last night. We haven't stopped talking about all the flavors to include, so we were hoping you can come over to work sometime soon? I want to continue what we were doing last night. And I guess we could bake while we're at it.

Anyway, hope to talk to you again soon. My dreams are still filled with images of you, so let's work on making them a reality soon. I'm in if you are.

George

(your neighbor)

Willow wasn't given a ton of time to process the letter's innuendos before Juliet had walked out and joined her at the table. Before the girls were able to dig into all the food Willow had prepared, Juliet picked up the letter on her plate and groaned as she tore it open.

"Is it from your parents again?" Willow asked, placing George's letter to the side and serving them both pancakes and sausage.

After she had read over the parchment, Juliet placed her head in her hands as she responded, "Unfortunately."

"What does this one say?" she questioned, in between bites of breakfast.

Juliet ran her hand through her damp hair as she picked up the fork by her plate and stabbed at the sausage. "Just, once again, asking me when I'm going to be home. Also asking why I didn't respond to the other letter they sent."

"Merlin, Jules! Knowing them, they probably think you're dead," Willow began. "You're only making it worse by ignoring them, and you know that."

The two continued to eat in silence, Juliet barely picking at the food on her plate. Willow didn't want to push her for information, but she also knew that Juliet would continue to stew over her parents if she wasn't vocal about it. Feeling the overwhelming need to help her friend, Willow opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by Juliet.

"Did you get another letter in the mail from Dean?" she asked, reaching for the white envelope on the table.

"I–uh–what?" she sputtered out.

Juliet rolled her eyes as she glanced over the letter in her hand. "Am I supposed to pretend I don't know who's been sending these to you?"

Willow reached out to snatch the envelope out of Juliet's hand. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she stated.

Juliet laughed as she turned back to the food on her plate. "If that's the game you want to play right now, I guess I can go along with it," she shrugged. "Now what I'm not going to play along with is pretending I didn't see anything last night."

Willow's hand froze as she reached toward her glass of juice. She quietly lowered her arm, her pointer finger beginning to pick at the skin around her thumbnail. Her heartbeat quickened as she watched Juliet studying her movements.

"Are you going to confess? Or just make me assume he fucked you in the ass on your nice granite counters?" Juliet casually questioned.

Rolling her eyes, Willow responded, "Are you serious?"

"Are you?" she challenged. "We both know you're gonna tell me one way or the other, so you might as well just spit it out."

Frazzled over Juliet's statements and the bubbling feeling in her stomach as she thought back on last night, Willow explained in limited details what had happened in the kitchen. Juliet sat, intently listening to every word, as she finally started to enjoy her breakfast. At the end of her speech, Willow sat back in her chair out of breath from talking.

All Juliet could manage was a smug, "Told you so."

"You told me what exactly?"

"I told you that he wanted to fuck you," she reminded.

"I–well, I'm not so sure about that," Willow started.

"Nope! Don't you dare do that, Willie!" Juliet threatened. "You made out with George last night, you're no longer allowed to deny that he likes you."

"But what if–"

"Bad Willow!" Juliet interrupted. "I will not sit here and listen to you slander my best friend. You are a bad bitch who just made out with a super hot guy, and it's very adamant," she gestured to the letter, "that he wants things to go further."

Willow pursed her lips as she thought about everything Juliet had said. She had known in her heart for a while that George did like her, and obviously, she felt the same way. So last night sealed the fate she was ready to deal with: a potential relationship with George. But was it wrong to call it a relationship?

Before Willow could continue her spiral, Juliet interrupted her train of thought, "Willow, I have a brilliant idea that you're going to hate."

"Oh, boy. Can't wait to hear this one."

"You have to hear me out before you immediately reject the idea, though," Juliet insisted.

"Okay, okay. I promise. Just tell me the idea," Willow stated.

"I have a way that's going to settle both of our problems," she began. "To get my parents off my back, it's obvious I'm going to need to go home for at least a couple of nights. So, let's say I go this weekend. What does that leave you with? An empty apartment."

"Juliet, please, I don't like where this is going," Willow said, cutting her off.

"Nope, you have to let me finish. You promised."

Willow sighed as she leaned back in her chair, gesturing for Juliet to continue.

"As I was saying, I go home and you're left with an empty apartment," Juliet pointed out. "So what's a lonely girl like you going to do with all this space? Why not invite over our favorite ginger boy to keep you company? I go home to get my parents off my back, you invite George over to get him off, or whatever. I'm sure there's an innuendo in there somewhere. All parties are pleased."

As she took her final bite of sausage, Willow sighed, "Do you think it's too soon?"

"Do you think it's too soon?" Juliet questioned back.

"I'm not sure," she confessed. "I know his letter said something about 'making his dreams a reality,' but what if he thinks I'm trying to move too fast by inviting him over."

"Willow," Juliet scolded. "The man seemed very willing to take you on the kitchen counter last night, I don't think it's possible to move too fast in his horny eyes."

"Jules, please. I'm being serious."

"Yeah, so am I," Juliet said, shaking her head. "If you're that worried about it, why not just invite him over to talk about it?"

"It was just a kiss, so it shouldn't matter that much to me."

Juliet titled her head as she gave Willow a sympathetic look. "It seems like it was more than just a kiss to you, babes."

"I don't know what it was to me," she confessed.

Juliet smiled as she turned to grab a pen from the nearby side table. "Only one way to find out," she held out the pen to Willow, "go write him back."

She tentatively took the pen from Juliet's hand. "I'll clean up, and then write him back," she started.

"No. I'll clean up so you don't have an excuse to push it off any further," Juliet stated, forcing Willow out of her seat.

As she started toward her bedroom, Willow paused to turn back. She watched as Juliet had cleaned everything in a matter of seconds with a single wave of her wand. Juliet looked over at Willow before motioning her into the bedroom.

Accepting defeat, and realizing this was probably the right decision, Willow trudged her way back into her room, shutting the door behind her. She sat down at the desk in one corner of her room, pulling a sheet of parchment out of her drawer as she settled into the desk chair. After tossing the pen aside, she grabbed the only quill she could find, dipped it into the black ink, and wrote:

Dear George,

About last night, picking up where we left off last night sounds good to me. What does your weekend look like? Juliet's going out of town, so the flat's going to be empty just like you wanted. We can work if you wish, but I can think of a few more entertaining things to do.

Write me back to let me know what you think. I hope to see you then, I think we have lots to talk about and even more things to do.

Willow

(your neighbor)

☆☆☆


	16. Possible Complications

Willow leaned her head on her hand as she watched the rain pour onto the cobblestones below her window. It was Friday night, half an hour before George was supposed to come over, and she had a pit in her stomach that grew each time a minute ticked by.

She had allowed Seth and Everly to go home earlier than normal tonight so that she could have enough time to prepare for his visit. But, apparently, preparing for tonight involved wistfully staring out the window wondering if it was too late to cancel.

Tearing her gaze away from the weather, Willow turned to grab her grandmother's cookbook from the bookshelf behind her. She flipped through it until she found George's response from earlier this week. She took it from its spot before placing the book back on the shelf. After unfolding the parchment, she read over it once more.

Earlier this week he had agreed to come over Friday night, even stating that he would leave before they closed shop so he could bring dinner. He hadn't given any other details on his plan, which also made the anxiety in Willow's stomach rise. The time of his arrival was slowly inching closer.

The letters between them hadn't stopped this week. Willow had several more tucked away, some of them sweet and others a little more mature. It was becoming evident that she was developing more than just physical feelings toward George, and his letters to her seemed to say the same thing.

But there was something at the back of Willow's mind that continued to tell her it was all in her head, and he wasn't interested in anything but her body. However, that was what tonight was about. She wanted to get a straight answer out of George about what exactly he wanted from her before she allowed things to go any further than they already had.

Willow sighed as she placed his letter on the top of her bookshelf before standing up to close her curtains. Then she turned to walk toward the bathroom where she washed her face in an attempt to make time go faster. She knew that if she gave herself too much time to think, she was going to be able to convince herself to cancel. Which is not what she wanted to occur, despite what her nerves tried to convince her of.

Even if nothing else happened, Willow needed to talk to George about last weekend. Her mind had been preoccupied with the image of their kiss all week; she'd been replaying it in her head all day long. She needed to know if George wanted more from her, or if their relationship would remain strictly professional.

Which was another thing she began to worry about as she dried her face. What if a relationship with George–any type of relationship–caused her product deal with them to fall through? She knew that she would need to have a good partnership with all of the owners from here on out, and sleeping with one of them may cause their attitudes toward her to falter.

As she walked back to her room to begin digging through her dresser, Willow had to admit to herself that she also didn't know what she wanted from him. She had thoroughly enjoyed their kiss, and she couldn't deny the warm feeling in her body whenever George was near her. Even in the short time she'd known him, he made her feel special and wanted in a way she'd never experienced from a guy.

Willow had only gone on a few dates in her time since Hogwarts. Dean had been her first everything, so once she was ready to get over him she had become a bit of a "serial dater." However, none of them ever amounted to anything past the first or second date. She had yet to question any of her hookups, so she didn't want George to be her first regret.

Not wanting to linger on her thoughts any further, Willow changed out of the clothes she'd been wearing all day. She slipped on a clean bra and panty set before glancing herself over in the mirror. Satisfied with how she looked, she threw on a short black top and some loose-fitting grey shorts. Then she pulled on a pair of zig-zag patterned crew socks.

Just as she was giving herself a once-over in the mirror, smoothing down her hair and applying some light makeup, she heard a Crack! from outside the back door. Willow's heartbeat quickened as she heard a few sharp knocks on the door; George was here.

She cracked her knuckles as she made her way toward the back door. As she walked through the living room, she waved her wand to push the dining chairs in and straighten the throw pillows on the couches. Pausing in front of the door, she took a final calming breath before she threw it open.

Standing in the small hallway outside the door was a casually-dressed George, his hair was dripping with what Willow assumed was rainwater and he had a large brown paper bag in one hand. He grinned down at her as she stepped aside to allow him inside.

"Hi there," he said, breathlessly.

Willow closed the door behind him as she responded, "Hi, George."

He walked a few steps into the apartment before pausing to turn back to her. The two looked each other over, quickly averting their gaze when they reached the other's face.

"How have you been today, my dear?"

"I've been well," Willow responded as casually as possible, her heart beating in her ears. "May I ask why you're wet?"

George chuckled. "Reckon it's due to the rain."

"Well, yes, obviously it's raining," she started. "But did you not just Apparate into my hallway?"

"I did do that," he said, shifting the bag to his other hand. "But I got our dinner from a muggle place, couldn't exactly disappear into thin air inside, so I had to walk a ways away."

"Don't you at least own a rain jacket or an umbrella?"

"So many questions tonight, Willow," he teased. "I do own one of those, but if I had brought one, I wouldn't be able to do this."

George placed the bag in his hand on the coffee table. Then he walked to where Willow was standing, grabbing her by the shoulders. She felt her stomach drop as she was taken aback by his forwardness. But before she had a chance to fully process his rough grip on her skin, George began to wildly shake his head. The droplets of water that clung to his hair flew off, hitting Willow in the face.

"George, what are you doing!" she exclaimed, now attempting to struggle out of his hands.

"Getting you all wet it seems," he said, shooting her a cheeky smile as he stopped his head shaking.

Once she had managed to remove herself from his hold on her, she said, "You are quite literally the worst."

"Uh, no. I know you don't think that's true because you're the one that invited me over and I brought you food, so you can't be mad at me," he stated.

Willow rolled her eyes as she made her way to the kitchen to grab a hand towel. She watched as George smugly strode to the opposite side of the counter where he finally placed the bag down–Willow now assumed it was their dinner–before he watched her dry her face off.

"Why not just use a drying spell?" he questioned, pulling his wand out of his back pocket. "That's what I'm about to do."

"You didn't get me wet enough for a drying spell," she stated after placing the towel on the counter behind her.

"Hm. Guess I'll have to try harder next time."

George waved his wand over his body as Willow rolled her eyes. She grabbed two glasses from the cupboard before filling them with water. Then she moved to the other side of the kitchen island, taking a seat in one of the barstools.

"Anyway, what'd you bring for dinner?"

"I went to one of Fred and my favorite underground spots," he said, beginning to unpack the containers of food. "It's a tiny Japanese place in downtown London."

As George placed the containers in front of her, Willow peered in at the numerous rolls of sushi he had brought them. There was every roll she could imagine along with two circular containers of broth with some tofu sunk to the bottom and slices of mushroom floating on the top.

Once he had emptied the bag, he settled into the barstool next to Willow's, turning his body slightly toward her. "I wasn't quite sure what you'd like–or if you'd like sushi at all–so I just got a little bit of everything," he said, sheepishly.

Willow smiled over at him as she grabbed a pair of chopsticks. "Growing up with Juliet as my best friend introduced me to loads of Asian cultures. I know sushi is Japanese, but her dad makes it all the time."

"So, does that mean you like it?" he questioned.

"Love it."

George let out a sigh of relief as he reached for a plastic spoon. "Happy to hear it, but we should start with the soup. That's what the owners always make Fred and me do."

Willow smiled over at him before placing the chopsticks down and picking up the other spoon. George slid one of the containers over to her and they both cracked open the top, the scent of miso and onion wafting through the air. As Willow began to spoon the savory broth into her mouth, she watched George fish out the mushrooms from the top of his soup before placing them on a napkin next to him.

"What exactly are you doing?" she asked, placing her soup down.

"Don't like mushrooms," he muttered as he placed the final slice on the napkin.

Willow tilted her head. "I've never understood why people don't like mushrooms."

George turned his body to face hers, finally eating the soup in his hand. "I have a good reason."

"By all means, please elaborate," she gestured.

"When I was younger, in my mum's garden we grew all sorts of veggies and shit. Well, one of those things was mushrooms, and one time my older brother, Charlie, charmed the mushrooms to have these terrifying little eyes and mouths whenever you stepped near them," he explained. "So one night, my mum made me go out to pick some for dinner and one of 'em fucking bit me. So I've been traumatized ever since and I refuse to eat them."

Willow nodded her head as she tried to suppress the laugh in the back of her throat. George didn't seem to appreciate her laughter since he rolled his eyes at the small noises that escaped. The two continued to sip on their soup in silence before he finally spoke.

"You have no idea how terrifying it was," he simply stated.

Willow now let a full laugh out as she teased, "No, I know, I know. I'm sure baby George was not okay."

"Anyway, enough of that story," he scoffed. "I call the majority of the California roll."

"That's fine by me, it's the most basic roll you can get."

"Well, it's the only one I like," he grumbled. "I don't like any of those fancy types."

As she set her soup down to grab the other pair of chopsticks, Willow laughed again. "Why do you and Fred go to a sushi place so often if you don't even like the majority of the food there?"

"Fred got super into sushi while we were in Japan," he explained as he inhaled half the California roll before Willow could even open the package of chopsticks. "He claims it's the most 'authentic' place in the city."

"Wait, so you've been to the country that invented sushi, and yet you're still only willing to eat the most basic roll possible?" she questioned.

"I would argue that there are more basic rolls out there than that," he defended, reaching to grab the second California roll. "Lee tends to order a cucumber roll. Sometimes he just asks for rice inside the seaweed, nothing else."

Willow's face twisted in disbelief as she said, "Remind me to never go to a sushi place with Lee."

"There's a reason why he wasn't invited to Japan," he said through a mouth full of food.

"Says the man who ate California rolls in Japan."

George smiled. "You're never going to let that go, are you?"

"I mean you went to Japan of all places and you still don't like normal sushi," she teased.

"Well, we didn't go for the food, Willow," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Then why'd you go?"

George paused to take a sip from his water. It looked as though he was trying to figure out how to answer her question, which made Willow feel like she had somehow asked the wrong thing. She was about to start apologizing, but George cut her off.

"Did you fight in the war?"

Willow was taken aback by his question. The Second Wizarding War was not something she spent a lot of time thinking about, but she knew–from her mother's gossip circle–that the Weasleys had been a large part of the efforts in taking down Voldemort. Was he going to judge her for saying no? She quickly contemplated lying but settled on the fact that the truth would be easier.

"Uh, no I did not. I had already graduated, I was in culinary school–until our teacher had to go into hiding–but then I was living at home and my parents wouldn't let me leave," she tumbled out. "Plus, I don't think I would have been able to mentally handle that and–"

George placed a hand on her shoulder, cutting off her rambling. She sighed as he lightly rubbed his thumb over the fabric of her shirt before retracting his hand and saying, "It's okay. You don't have to explain yourself to me. I understand not wanting to fight, and it doesn't make me think less of you if that's what you're worried about."

"I'm assuming you were there?" she asked, turning back to pick at the sushi roll in front of her already knowing the answer. "At the Hogwarts battle that is."

"Yep. Fred, Angelina, Lee, all of us went back to fight," he said, also turning back to the counter. "My parents were–well, are–a big part of the main organization that fought against Voldemort and all his followers."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that."

George grinned at her after eating another piece of sushi. "Nothing to be sorry for. Not a day goes by that I regret my decision to fight."

Due to the subject change, Willow had slightly lost her appetite, so she placed the chopsticks on the counter. After a few moments of silence, hoping to lighten the mood, she finally spoke up, "Well, what does that have to do with traveling to Japan?"

George cleared his throat, then said, "A big reason why we wanted to travel was that Fred almost died in battle."

"You're joking..." she whispered, her stomach dropping.

"It sounds scarier than it really was," he said seemingly in an attempt to reassure her.

Careful not to overstep her boundaries, but still wanting to know the full story, Willow asked, "Do you want to tell me details? If not, I understand."

He laughed. "Yes, I have no problem in re-telling the story because–honestly–it's kind of unbelievable."

Finished with the three California rolls, George set the chopsticks he'd been fidgeting with on the counter. He picked up his water glass, which he also finished, before finally sighing and starting his story.

"To this day, no one–not even Fred–really knows the full details of what happened," he began. "Basically, he was fighting alongside one of our big brothers, Percy, and this wall fucking collapsed on him."

Willow gasped as he nodded in agreement.

"So Percy is freaking out because a wall just seemingly crushed Fred, while still trying to fight off these Death Eaters. He thought he was dead, but he tries to, like, push the bricks off him, and Fred is barely responding. So he takes him to the medical area and the people working have pretty much pronounced him dead," he continued. "Hours pass by and our whole family has had to accept that he's gone. He was super bloodied and bruised, so we really thought there was no way he was going to survive."

"George, oh my, Merlin," Willow interrupted. "That's bloody insane."

"It's not even the best part, Willow," he insisted. "Hours after the battle's over, apparently, Fred literally just gets up and walks out of the medical whatever, area, I guess. Anyway, he somehow makes it back home to us, and here we are."

"So to this day, none of you have any idea how he survived?"

"No idea how he survived, or how he even got home," George corrected. "Fred suffered from a small amount of memory loss from that day, but other than that he's his total normal self. Well, as normal as he'd ever been."

"I know I said it already, but that's insane," Willow started. "You had to fight in a deadly battle and accept your twin brother's death all in the same day, only for him to turn up miraculously alive a few hours later."

"It was quite the day, won't lie about that," George said, fidgeting with the ring on his finger. "But all that to say, after almost losing him, the two of us decided to take a break and travel to a bunch of places all around the world because life's–you know–short."

Realizing that he didn't want to dwell any further on that story, Willow accepted his subject change by asking, "Where all did you both go?"

"Japan, France, Brazil, Canada, and we ended in Australia," he replied.

"Despite the circumstances, that still sounds like an amazing trip," Willow smiled.

"Oh, it was. Probably my top five life moments. France is where we got these rings." George held out his left hand, the ring on his pointer finger glinting in the overhead lighting.

Willow delicately took his hand to inspect it further. It was a thin gold band that widened as it connected to a small, flat disk on the top of his finger. There was, what seemed to be, a lion stamped into the wider part of the ring.

"Why a lion?" she tentatively asked, not dropping George's hand.

"It seems dumb, but at the time it made the most sense to us. But it was for Gryffindor and courage and all that other bullshit Hogwarts taught us. The date of the battle is engraved on the inside," he explained as his thumb began to lazily rub the back of Willow's hand. "Fred's got a matching one."

The two of them stared at each other for a moment, almost as if they were daring the other to make a move. Willow felt herself leaning in, but before she got too close she quickly dropped George's hand and cleared her throat. She still wanted to talk to him before anything happened.

"So, now that I've severely brought the mood down, what's for dessert?" George asked, rubbing his hands on his pants.

Willow gave him a questioning look. "Dessert?"

"Yes, of course, dessert," he emphasized. "I was raised to believe that a meal is never complete without it."

Willow let out an unsure laugh. "I wasn't aware I needed to have a dessert planned out."

"Willow," George gasped, placing a hand on his heart. "You work in a bakery. You can't seriously expect me to come over and not think I'm going to be offered something sweet. I mean, I love cake, but I'll take anything you've got in mind."

Willow rolled her eyes at the wink George ended his sentence with before standing up. "We can go look downstairs. A lot of what I do on a day-to-day basis is test out potential recipes for the future menu. We have loads of things in the freezer," she explained, walking toward the stairs.

"The freezer?" George questioned, following closely behind as they descended the back steps.

"Not all of us have unlocked the secret to keeping sweets fresh out in the open," she shot back as they entered the bakery's kitchen. "And, anyway, cake tastes better frozen."

Willow heard George let out an exaggerated gasp as she opened the storage freezer to look for the half-eaten chocolate cake Everly and she had made a few days prior. Once she was able to locate it, she turned to hand it to George who was already standing directly behind her.

"Cake tastes better frozen?" he questioned, glancing into the cardboard box in his hands. "What is this outlandish stance you've taken?"

Willow laughed. "You'll see."

She grabbed two forks and some napkins from a drawer and led George out to the front of the shop. She settled into one of the only set-up tables by the windows, George quickly following suit. He placed the box between them and they quickly dug into the chocolatey goodness.

Once they had sat in silence for a few moments, and George had already eaten half the available cake, Willow was trying to figure out what to say next. She missed the confidence she had last weekend, she still didn't know where it came from, but it would be handy now. But, thankfully, it was obvious that George was enjoying himself by the light pink frosting lining the corners of his smile.

Without thinking about it, Willow picked up one of the napkins and reached toward George. He froze as she lightly wiped off the small mess on his face. Realizing what she had done, she quickly retracted her hand as she mumbled an apology.

In an effort to change the subject, Willow rushed out, "I really admire you and your brother."

"We are pretty handsome," George stated smugly, digging his fork back into the cake.

"Not in that way," she rolled her eyes.

"So you don't think I'm handsome?" he pouted.

Willow shook her head. "What? No, that's not what I meant...I–"

"So, you do think I'm handsome?"

"George! I am trying to compliment you."

He grinned. "Sure doesn't seem like it."

"Anyway...I meant that I admire how you've built up," she gestured across the street, "this entire joke shop from scratch. It's very impressive that you guys have been able to do all of this."

"Even though you don't think I'm handsome," Willow rolled her eyes, "thank you. I couldn't do it without Fred, and occasionally Lee," he replied.

"Occasionally Lee?"

"Eh, not really. It's just fun to mess with him because he gets very defensive very quickly," he grinned.

Willow laughed as she took another bite of the small amount of cake in front of them. They continued to eat in silence for a few fleeting minutes, watching as the rain slid down the large window in front of them.

George cleared his throat. "You know, I admire you, too."

Willow turned her head back to find his eyes already on her. "Always with the compliments, George," she teased. "And, anyway, I don't think I've done anything just yet for you to admire me for."

"I beg to differ," he set his fork down, "I can already tell you're going to have a successful business here. I can see the passion behind your eyes when you bake, and that's a core need for running your own business."

Willow's face grew warm at the compliment. She also placed her fork down as her stomach churned with nerves. "I supposed you can thank my grandmother for that."

"How do you mean?"

Willow explained, in limited detail, how she got her love for cooking and baking. She casually mentioned her grandmother's sickness but rejected George's attempt at more information. Soon after, Willow put the small amount of uneaten cake into the freezer and they headed back upstairs.

They settled into spots on the couch, Willow had flipped on the TV, but she had no idea was playing. Her mind was more preoccupied with what she wanted to say to the man sitting next to her. She knew that if she didn't take this opportunity to speak her mind, she would live to regret it.

Willow tucked her legs underneath her, turning so that her body faced his. She cleared her throat, causing George to look toward her. Noticing that she was now facing him, he twisted his body, placing his arm along the back of the couch.

"Yes?" George said, tilting his head down and grinning at her.

Willow took a deep breath. "Can I be frank with you?"

"My name is George, but I suppose you can."

"We need to be serious for a moment," she said, rolling her eyes at his comment.

"I can be serious," he stated, scooting closer to her side of the couch, his arm remaining along the top.

Out of the corner of her eye, Willow saw George's fingers begin to rub the fabric on the couch as he waited for her to continue speaking.

"You kissed me last weekend."

"Did I?"

"George, I told you I want to be serious," she sighed.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," he said, scooting even closer to her and removing his hand from the couch to place on her bare thigh. "I'm listening now."

She glanced down at his hand as she took another deep breath. "You kissed me last weekend. And I want to know what that means."

George began to lightly trace circles on her thigh, causing goosebumps to ripple across her skin. He sat in silence for a few moments as if he was deciding what to say next. With each second that ticked by, Willow felt the heat in her body rising.

"I think it means that I've wanted to kiss you since I first saw you come into our shop," he finally stated.

George's eyes scanned Willow's face as his hand began to inch upwards again. He smirked as her leg instinctively twitched the slower he drug his finger. "And do you want to know a secret?"

Willow's mind was beginning to grow cloudy as his hand reached further upward. George was going to be able to easily access everything he wanted tonight, and, unless Willow stopped him, that seemed to be right where he was going. So why couldn't she get the right words out?

"W-what's the secret?" she managed to choke out. Her mind was still preoccupied with George's touch, so she had quickly forgotten her original goal.

He leaned his body closer to hers. Willow swallowed hard as he brought his lips within centimeters of her own, his other hand quickly found her jaw.

"I'd really like to continue where we left off," he murmured against her lips. "Is that something you'd be interested in?"

"W-well, I really wanted to talk to you some more," she started, but the heat between her legs was growing intensely as she felt the tips of George's fingers reach the edge of her shorts.

He pulled his face a few inches from hers, slightly moving the hand on her thigh away from the hem. "We can stop if that's what you want."

Willow's mind raced as she mulled over her options. She wanted to talk to George about how he was feeling, and if she let this go further it may complicate things even more. But on the other hand, they could always talk later.

Without giving herself a chance to sike herself out, Willow breathed out a small "come here" and grabbed the back of George's neck, pulling him on top of her as their lips crashed together.

George's hand braced against the arm of the couch where Willow's head had landed. But he quickly moved it down to her throat, squeezing lightly as a small moan escaped her lips. George's tongue slipped into Willow's mouth as his other hand found her thigh once more.

As they continued to make out, George's hand shifted up her leg with a swiftness she'd never seen out of him. His fingers dipped underneath the fabric of her loose shorts, causing her leg to slightly jolt at his cold touch so close to her heat.

"That excited are we?" he teased in between kisses.

Willow tilted her head back as she let out a small laugh. "You're so full of yourself, George."

"Can you blame me?" he smirked, his finger lightly brushing over her underwear. "You're already so wet for me."

Willow's breath hitched in the back of her throat as George's fingers lightly dragged across the fabric between her legs. She was going to need him inside of her before too long, or else she would need to take over.

She watched as George swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "Do you want me inside you, darling?" he questioned as if he was reading her mind.

Willow felt herself nod. George removed the hand from her throat, placing it back on the arm of the couch so he could prop himself up. Then, much to her dismay, he removed his hand from inside her shorts. But he quickly shifted it to grab her chin, lightly placing two fingers on her lips.

"I'm gonna need more than a nod from you, Willow," he breathed out. "You're always so quiet."

"I want you inside of me, George," she whispered against his lips.

George smirked as she left her lips slightly parted. Then he slipped the two fingers resting on top into her mouth. Willow quickly ran her tongue around his long fingers, earning a deep groan from George. He pulled them out of her mouth, replacing them with his tongue as he leaned in to kiss her deeply.

His lips were met with Willow's eager ones as she placed her hands in his hair. Meanwhile, his fingers had now found her underwear again. George began to lightly rub against her fabric-covered mound. She broke their intense kiss to moan, causing George to press harder into the spot between her legs.

With her head thrown back in pleasure, Willow stuttered out, "G-George, p-p-please."

He had begun to trail wet kisses down to her collarbone but quickly lifted his head to meet her eyes. "Please what, my dear?"

Willow's toes curled as he applied more pressure to her, it was becoming increasingly harder to concentrate on what she wanted to say. "G-go underneath my underwear, I need to fully feel you. P-please," she whispered.

George smirked down at her. "That's more like it."

Willow let a large moan escape her as George's hand finally shifted her underwear away from the sensitive skin between her legs. Now completely exposed beneath her shorts, Willow grabbed onto the arm beside her head as George's rough fingers massaged her clit.

A second moan began to tumble out, but it was cut off by George's lips pressing against hers. One hand found his hair as he switched his thumb to the top of her mound, continuing the rhythmic motion. Willow's entire body began to tingle as he started to move faster.

Her kiss became sloppier as George finally dipped two fingers inside of her. Their moans began to drown out the program playing on the small TV a few feet away as George's fingers curled. His thumb remained on her clit as he roughly moved his fingers inside her.

The tingle on her skin was turning into a full-body numbness as she reached closer to orgasm. Gone were her worries about taking things too far as George's fingers worked their magic. Willow's legs began to twitch as the heat in her belly slowly pooled.

Her eyes flew shut as her head fell back on the couch arm. Both hands were now tangled in George's hair as he kissed down her neck once more, this time leaving delicate marks along the way.

But, suddenly, he stopped his kisses to look over her writhing body. Smirking down at her, he removed his hand from between her legs, causing Willow's eyes to fly open. She instinctively began to try to wriggle her hips against his fingers to not lose the sensation, but he grabbed her throat with his free hand causing her to freeze.

"If you want to finish, I need to hear how good I'm making you feel," he darkly mumbled.

"W-what?" she stuttered.

"Tell me how good you feel with my fingers inside you, my dear," he stated, lightly squeezing her throat, making Willow gasp. "It's the only way you'll be allowed to finish."

Normally Willow would respond with a snarky remark, but she was quickly losing the high she had previously been feeling, so she was ready to do anything to get George's fingers back inside her.

She titled her head down, looking up at him with pleading eyes, "You feel so good inside me, Georgie."

He let out a soft chuckle at her use of his nickname before responding, "I like it when you call me that."

Seemingly satisfied with her answer, George removed the hand from her throat and lightly placed his thumb on her pulsating clit. Willow shuddered at the contact as he leaned in to kiss her once more. The two made out for a few seconds, George still barely massaging the sensitive skin, before he broke apart from her.

Willow looked up at him, confused about what was going to happen next. Much to her dismay, he removed his thumb again, but this time he placed his left pointer finger inside his mouth. Once he removed it, the ring that was once wrapped around the finger was gone.

He leaned toward her, motioning his head to one of her hands. Willow complied with his actions, lifting her hand. Then George took her middle finger in his mouth, placing the lion ring on her hand and trailing his tongue along her finger.

Willow's core began to pulsate again at his tender movements. He dipped his head to kiss her again, and while she was distracted, placed his left thumb on her mound once more. After massaging it for a few moments, he thrust his two fingers back inside her without warning.

This earned a loud moan from Willow as the heat in her body returned. He restarted his dual motion of massaging her clit and swiftly moving his fingers inside her, breaking their kiss to plant more bites down her neck.

Everything he did was sending her closer to the edge, so with one final love bite on her collarbone. Willow felt her legs begin to shake as her orgasm took over her senses. She dug her hands into his hair, causing a groan to escape George's lips as he pulled his hands out from her shorts.

She felt George lean upwards, removing his hand from next to her head. Willow's eyes softly opened as her heart pounded in her ears. She was unable to focus on anything but George's eyes as she slowly breathed. She felt one last twinge in her core as she watched George place his fingers in his mouth, sucking them clean.

Willow remained laying on the couch, still coming down from the high George had just provided for her. She watched as he sat back, tilting his head and smirking at her. Then he briefly leaned in to press a quick kiss on her forehead before shifting back.

After she slowly sat up, George reached for the glasses on the table, handing Willow one of them. He took large gulps of water before clearing his throat.

"So, you said you wanted to talk?"

Willow couldn't help the laugh that left her mouth. "You bring out a side of me I don't recognize, George."

"Oh, really? What side is that?" he asked, leaning back into the couch and placing a large hand on Willow's leg.

"I just don't know who I am," she began, confidence pumping through her body. "You make me feel so bold when I'm with you, but, once you leave, I question everything I did around you and assume it was all embarrassing in your eyes."

"I don't think anything you do is embarrassing," he soothed, running his hand on Willow's knee. "I wouldn't be on the couch with you right now if I thought you were weird or embarrassing."

"I suppose you're right."

"But I would like to know more about this bold side I bring out?" he asked, scooting closer to her. "Perhaps giving me an example of such behavior?"

She laughed. "Oh, you'd like that wouldn't you?"

"Uh, yes," he grinned, "that's why I asked."

"Well, what would you like to see?" she teased.

"Anything at all. I don't even really want you to do anything to me. I think that was enough for tonight since I get the idea that you want to take things slow," he explained. "I'm happy to just sit here and talk. Doesn't matter which version of Willow you wanna show me, I like them all."

Willow felt her heart soar as she looked at him. This wasn't exactly how she'd envisioned the night going, but that was okay. She had a feeling that she'd have plenty of other opportunities to talk to George about their relationship, so why ruin such a perfect moment like this one?

Once she had snuggled into George's strong embrace, he pulled a blanket over them and propped his feet on the coffee table. Then they spent the next several hours talking about everything and nothing all at once.

She felt at home in George's arms and she wasn't planning on leaving them anytime soon, she only hoped he felt the same way. She couldn't handle any more complications in her love life.

☆☆☆


	17. Grassy Hillsides

Willow reached her hand out to touch the chest of the man in front of her. Her hand moved with his breathing and his heartbeat seemed to shake her entire body as she pressed her palm harder into him.

She had the overwhelming need to touch him. To grab him. To push him. Hurt him. Why did she want to hurt him?

She had never felt such an odd mixture of rage and excitement in her body. Every time his heart beat, the feelings inside of her stirred. So she quickly placed her other hand onto his chest, pushing even harder into him.

But he wasn't budging.

No matter how hard Willow pushed, the body in front of her continued to remain still. The only movement was the rise and fall of his chest with each breath he took.

It felt like she was giving it her all. Every ounce of her body was trying to press her hands deeper into him. She didn't want him to be in front of her anymore. All she wanted was for him to finally get out of the way. It already felt like she'd been pushing on him for ages.

Off in the distance of wherever she was, she could see another body. It was waving its arms, seemingly motioning for her to come closer to it. And that's where she wanted to go. She wanted to go to that person, so please, can the man in front of her just move?

Desperation overtaking her, Willow dug her nails into the fabric covering the man's chest. But that was met with no reaction, just like everything else she had done to him. The only movement in his body was inhaling, exhaling, and the heartbeat still shaking her to her core.

Willow now realized she didn't even know what he looked like. She had only been focusing on his chest, forgetting that his face may give away the answers she sought. But as she titled her head upward, she was met with pure darkness, except two hard brown eyes shining through. Where was the rest of him?

He didn't even seem to want her there. He wasn't looking at her, he wasn't stopping her from moving on, he wasn't even touching her. So was this all her fault?

She felt hopeless. She felt defeated. She just wanted to move past this body, but nothing she did was working.

So maybe she wasn't doing enough?

Willow felt her mouth open as she attempted to speak. But no matter how fast she moved her lips, no noise was coming out. The man was now standing above her; in all her silent confusion he had suddenly grown several inches taller.

A familiar hand reached down to her as Willow realized she was sitting on the...ground? She tentatively took the hand of the figure before it swiftly pulled her upward.

As she became level on her feet, her surroundings changed to a place she'd never seen before. It didn't seem like there was anything but grass anywhere near them, except for the same figure off in the distance still motioning for her. Only large, green hillsides that went on for ages surrounded her and the figure in front of her.

The figure in front of her.

Willow realized that she'd now be able to see his face. The darkness that had once encompassed them was gone. What seemed like sunlight shone in her eyes as she finally glanced up at the boy who had saved her.

"I've waited so long for this."

The words floated out of his mouth, each individual syllable hitting her in the face. Her head was forced backward six times before she was finally able to look up at him. He had just saved her life. She wanted to thank him.

Willow scanned his face as he beamed down at her. His clear blue eyes seemed so familiar. She had to know him from somewhere. His name was rattling around in her brain, but the word wasn't connecting with her vocal cords. But Willow was positive she knew who he was.

And he had to be someone different from the other man. She had no desire to touch this body, although he was still holding onto her hand. But it wasn't like she was pulling away from him. So maybe she did want to touch him?

It didn't matter. Something inside her was telling her that she needed to get to the body still waving its arms in the distance. Nothing else in the world mattered to her except reaching her destination.

But just as she was taking a step around the boy whose name she didn't know, he pulled her back to in front of him. She stumbled backward, landing on her backside amidst the grassy fields.

As she looked up at him, Willow noticed that his eyes matched the clear sky behind him. Why was there something so familiar about him? She was desperate for answers once more.

The boy reached his hand out again, helping her to stand back on her feet before he opened his mouth again and repeated, "I've waited so long for this."

His grip on her hand had tightened slightly, causing Willow's need to get away from him to intensify. The man on the horizon seemed like the much smarter option, so that's where she still longed to be. She tried to move her feet in his direction but was caught off guard by her sudden inability to walk.

Willow looked back at the boy who was still beaming at her. Suddenly her surroundings began to fade as the boy in front of her leaned into her face. She felt his lips roughly press against hers and before she realized it, she was kissing him back.

The boy finally dropped her hand, switching his grip to her waist. Willow saw nothing wrong with making out with a boy she seemed to know, so she continued to kiss him back. As she wrapped her hands around his neck, an odd bubbling feeling began to rise in her belly.

But it wasn't the usual feeling she felt when she kissed someone. This one almost seemed like it was trying to warn her. But warn her of what? Willow was perfectly content to keep kissing this boy's rough lips for the rest of her life. They would build a home on these hills and live here forever if that's what he wanted.

But something in Willow's body was telling her that that's not what she wanted. She wanted that other man, the one on the horizon. She didn't know anything about him, but there was still something drawing her toward him.

As much as she enjoyed the kiss with this boy, this isn't what she wanted to do anymore, so Willow pulled away from him.

Why did he look so hurt? This wasn't his decision, it was hers. At this point, Willow wasn't positive that he was even real. She could do whatever she wanted. And what she wanted was the man on the horizon.

So she finally pushed past the blue-eyed boy and began to run toward the waving figure. Her heart was beating in her ears as each step brought her closer to his comforting aura. She honestly didn't know how long she'd been running for when she felt the need to stop.

She bent over to put her hands on her knees as she quickly caught her breath. Once she had regained her strength, she finally leaned upward to search for the figure once more. But he was gone.

Willow felt crushed. She had clawed her way to this point–at least she thought she had–and the only thing she wanted was the presence of the man she'd been fighting so hard for. She still didn't even know who he was, all she knew was that she was drawn to him in a way she didn't understand.

She had worked so hard to reach this space, and he had decided to disappear on her. What was the point of all of this anyway?

With no energy left in her, Willow collapsed onto the grassy field. But her body was never met with the ground. Everything that had once surrounded her was gone, now replaced with the same darkness from before. Simultaneously, she felt frozen in time and like she was falling a million meters at once.

Her senses were gone, but something in her was screaming that she was about to hit the ground. Willow didn't want to hit the ground. What if the man with hard brown eyes was there? Or the blue-eyed boy who'd kissed her? She didn't want them to interfere anymore. She just wanted the figure on the horizon...

Seemingly moments before she was going to hit the ground, Willow's body popped upwards. Her breathing was irregular and she was drenched in sweat, but she was back in her bed. The darkness, the grassy hills, the men...none of it was real.

She rubbed her eyes in an attempt to convince herself that what she was experiencing was finally legit. Whatever had just happened in her subconscious was not something Willow wanted to think about right now as she read the time of 1:09 am.

She breathed in deeply as she laid her head back on her pillow. After closing her eyes, Willow softly drifted back into a restless sleep, the men's eyes still haunting her mind.

☆☆☆

"Willow!"

Once again, Willow shot up in her bed. She felt around her, checking to see if the voice she'd heard was real this time. After she had rubbed her hands across her face, wiping the sweat that still coated her brow, she looked around for the source of the noise.

Juliet was standing in the entryway of her room, watching her groggily move around. Willow meekly waved at her as Juliet made her way to sit on the edge of the bed.

"You really need to stop barging in here, Jules."

As Bartholomew hopped onto the bed as well, Juliet laid back as she said, "I saw George in the window of the store, so I knew it was safe to barge in."

Willow rolled her eyes as she wiped her forehead off again. Juliet must have noticed her motion as she asked, "Why are you sweating so much?"

"I think I just had a bad dream, no worries," Willow yawned.

Juliet shot her an unsure look but elected to move on from the subject by saying, "I don't recognize that ring on your finger."

Willow froze. She quickly averted her eyes from Juliet to look down at her hand. George's ring still sat around her middle finger. He had forgotten to ask for it back last night, or, maybe he left it on purpose? Either way, she began to nervously twist it around her finger as she felt her mind wander back to last night's events.

"Hey! Spacegirl!" Juliet interrupted her train of thought by waving her hand in front of Willow's face. "That reminds me, what the hell happened with George last night?"

Willow's head turned back to look at her friend. She smiled sheepishly as she continued to twist the ring around her finger. Then she went into a semi-detailed description of what George and she had done together. Juliet responded mostly with squeals and gasps as Willow spoke.

She was most intrigued by how the ring ended up on her finger, however, Willow refused to give away too many details. Before she could finish the story, the alarm on her bedside table blared out a pop song, cutting off her talking.

As Juliet covered her ears, Willow leaned over to press the off button. "Why the bloody hell is that going off?"

"I have to be downstairs in, like, forty-five minutes to meet Seth," Willow responded, cracking the joints in her body to finally wake herself up.

"Meet Seth? Going on another date so soon?"

As she continued to twist her body, Willow responded, "Last night was not a date. And no, it's a business trip. I could've sworn I told you about this."

"Well, you didn't," she stated, sitting up to scratch Barty's chin. "What're you doing?"

"We're traveling out to a farm in the countryside for a possible partnership," she explained, swinging her legs out of bed to force herself up. "They make cheese and have been looking for a small business to sell them through, I think Seth's mum is friends with the owners."

"So it's going to be an exciting day of cheese tasting?"

Willow laughed. "Something like that."

Juliet leaned back on her elbow as she said, "Is cheese an aphrodisiac?"

"Uh, I wouldn't know," Willow started as she headed toward the bathroom. "And I don't plan on finding out."

She didn't give Juliet a chance to continue her snarky remarks as she made her way into the bathroom. She busied herself by brushing her teeth and washing her face, luckily George hadn't left too late last night so she was able to shower before she fell asleep.

George.

She still had his ring on her finger. It was too big for her to wear all day, and she didn't want to leave it at home for Juliet to inspect further. Willow would have to return it before she left for the farm. But that also meant she would have to explain to Seth why she needed to visit him.

Sighing as she walked back into her room, Willow stopped in her tracks as she found Juliet still sitting on her bed petting the cat. "I thought you'd be gone by now," she simply said, walking over to her closet.

"I had another question," Juliet began, sitting up. "And you never asked me how my weekend was."

"Well, I only have about ten minutes before Seth is supposed to be here," she said, pulling out clothes. "So ask your question and then tell me about your weekend."

"Geez, Willie. Try to not sound so excited."

"You know I'm in a rush, and we also live together so you could tell me about your weekend when I get home later," she explained, pulling on a turtleneck to hide the small marks George had left along her collarbone.

"My question is why you seem so frazzled."

As she stepped into some denim overalls, Willow thought back on the pairs of eyes that had been floating across her mind since she woke up. She had no idea what her subconscious was trying to tell her, or if what she saw in the dream meant anything. Willow was not one to have such real-feeling dreams as that one did and it was freaking her out. But she didn't have time to tell Juliet all of that right now.

"I told you, I think I just had a bad dream last night," she stated as she buttoned up her overalls. "Plus, I can't be late to meet Seth. Now tell me about your weekend at home."

Juliet sighed as she laid back on Willow's bed. "I think my parents should just get divorced at this point."

"That's a heavy statement to unpack all at once," she lightly joked, pulling on a pair of socks.

"I don't know, Willie," she sighed. "It just seems like all they do is fight. They fight with me, they fight with each other, the fighting never seems to end."

As Willow leaned in to look at her tired reflection in the mirror, she asked, "Well, what was this weekend's big blowout?"

"They found out about Angelina."

Willow stopped rubbing the sleep from her eyes long enough to shoot Juliet an apologetic look. The Ahns were a very traditional family, which was not something that Juliet typically fit into. The entire time Juliet and Angelina had gone out, her parents never knew about the relationship. Willow thought that Juliet had at least subtly mentioned something about her sexuality to them before, but they had always quickly dismissed it as far as she knew.

"Angelina sent me a letter on Friday and forgot to specify that she wanted it sent here and not directly to me. So my parents were able to intercept it at their house and start questioning me," she explained. "I just want to be able to live the life I want to live without having to seek constant approval from my mother."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Jules," Willow tentatively began. "But maybe this is just a sign that it's time to finally be open with them. They're your parents, they're going to love you no matter what."

"We don't all have a hippie mum who convinces her husband to treat everyone equally, Willow," Juliet spat out.

Slightly hurt by her words, Willow softly said, "I'm going to choose to ignore that statement and remind you that when Mitchell first brought Taylor home there was an all-out brawl in my house."

Juliet sat up, rubbing her hands on her legs. "I know, I know, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

"You're fine," she replied, standing up to pack a bag. "I know you only said it out of anger toward your parents and not me."

Juliet gave her a weak smile before gasping. "I didn't even tell you the worst of what they said, Willie."

"Enlighten me."

"They had the audacity to tell me that Barty," she softly covered her cat's ears, "is getting fat. He's a goddamn long-haired cat, he's never going to look like the picture of health."

Willow laughed as Juliet continued her rant about Bartholomew's weight. While her friend raged, she quickly packed a bag with a pair of extra socks, a water bottle, and her raincoat. She had never been to the area that they were traveling to, so she had honestly no idea how to prepare. After finally deciding to wear a pair of short rubber boots and slipping another pair of socks into her bag, she glanced at the clock on her table that read 9:27.

"I hate to cut you off, Jules," she interrupted. "But I need to get downstairs to meet Seth."

Juliet sighed as she stood up and picked Bartholomew off the bed. "I guess I can let you get to your date. Just try not to let George see you, wouldn't want him getting too jealous."

Willow waved off her comments by ushering everyone out of the room. She ran to the kitchen cabinet to grab a granola bar before shouting a quick goodbye to Juliet and sprinting down the stairs.

Just as she was rounding the corner into her kitchen, she heard a few loud knocks on the bakery's front door. She set her bag down on the central counter before pushing through the swinging door to let Seth inside.

Standing on her front porch was a casually-dressed Seth, he had a dark brown jacket slung over his shoulder and was holding a thermos in one hand and two foil-wrapped cylinders in the other. Something about seeing him made her stomach drop, but she didn't have the time to process that new feeling. After Willow had unlocked the door to let him in, they greeted each other before making their way back to the kitchen.

Once there, Seth held out his hand for her to take the cylinders as he said, "I brought you a breakfast burrito and both of us some coffee."

"Oh, thank you so much!" she said, happily accepting the warm burrito. "I'm not a huge coffee drinker, but we can sit and chat for a few moments before we have to leave. I'm not sure why I asked you here so early since our meeting is at 10:30."

The two of them spent the next several minutes quietly munching on the food that Seth had brought for them. They made casual conversation about their weeks–at this point in her life, Willow saw Seth at least three times a week, so there wasn't always a lot to talk about–before she explained that she would need to stop by the Weasley's shop before they left.

Seth had begrudgingly agreed, citing that they were going to be late if they spent too much time in the shop. Willow had reassured him several times that she just needed to return something that George had let her borrow, so it wasn't going to take longer than a few minutes. Plus, she had reminded him, they were Apparating to the farm so it should only take them mere seconds to travel.

After they had both finished the breakfast Seth had provided and he had drunk all his coffee, Willow grabbed a box of croissants from the storage closet she had made to bring to the owners of the farm. She shoved them into the depths of her bag and nodded to Seth that she was ready to leave.

Since it was a Sunday and nearly ten in the morning, Diagon Alley wasn't its usual bustling self. They were able to make the incredibly short journey to the twins' shop in a matter of seconds after Willow had locked up her bakery.

She now stood outside the door, trying to not seem like she was peering inside. Seth was standing a little ways away, glancing over every person that walked past them, seemingly uninterested as Willow waited on her knock to be answered. But after a few more moments of awkward silence, and just as it seemed Seth was about to insist they leave, Lee threw open the front door to the shop.

"Willow! To what do we owe this pleasure so early in the morning?" he drawled. "Back for more of whatever caused you to wear a turtleneck?"

Willow's face warmed as she felt Seth's eyes on her. She cleared her throat before quickly replying, "Uh. No, Lee. I'm here to return something George let me–uh–borrow," she gestured to Seth, "and this is my work colleague, Seth."

Lee's eyes darted toward Seth, who flashed him a quick smile before looking back down at the floor. Then he glanced back at Willow with a slight look of apprehension before stepping aside to let them in. "He should be somewhere in the store, feel free to look around."

Willow took the first steps inside before turning back to see that Seth's feet were planted firmly into the ground. She gave him a questioning look before asking, "Are you coming?"

"I don't see how this is necessary, Willow," he insisted, checking his watch again. "Just give whatever you need to return to him and let's be off."

"Damn, who's the real boss here?" Lee joked, looking between the two of them.

Willow glared at Lee before turning back to Seth. "Well, I say this is necessary, and we still have a whopping," she checked her watch, "forty minutes to kill. So you are welcome to sulk outside."

Seth seemed to ponder his options before shaking his head and stalking into the store, mumbling about how he was going to be watching the clock.

Willow shot a small smile at Lee before journeying into the depths of the store to look for George, Seth close on her heels. It didn't take her long to get lost in the wonders of the store. Even though they weren't open yet, small gadgets whirred past her head, strange substances boiled out of cauldrons, and bells went off periodically from an unidentifiable source.

She walked partway up one of the several flights of stairs in an attempt to get a better look at the ground she had to cover. She hadn't seen Lee in a while, so she honestly had no idea where to even start looking. Just as she was making her way back down the stairs, she overheard a familiar voice talking to Seth.

"–if you so much as think about touching another one of our displays I'm throwing you out into the streets," an angry Fred threatened as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. "We don't take well to thieves."

Seth had his hands up in defense as he was slowly backed into a display, a look of pure terror painted his tanned face.

"I don't even know how you got into the store in the first place, buddy, but I can make sure you never return."

"I-I'm here with a friend of yours...I-I promise!" Seth begged.

Willow wasn't in the mood to lose her accountant this morning, so she quickly walked to where they stood. Once she had reached the two men, Fred still had his back to her, so she quietly tapped his shoulder to make him turn around. The fake toughness soon faded as he looked down at Willow.

"Ms. Sweetwood!" he beamed, running a hand through his shaggy hair. "Don't tell me you're this guy's friend, here to save him."

Willow watched as Seth swiftly moved away from the display that Fred had him cornered against, a look of relief on his face. "I wasn't trying to steal anything, which is what I was trying to explain to–erm–Mr. Weasley here, Willow," he explained, rubbing his hands on his shirt.

Willow ignored him as she looked up at Fred.

"Thank you for putting my employee in check, Mr. Weasley," she joked, a small smile on her face. "Now, can you please point me in the direction of your brother? It's seemingly impossible to find anything in this shop."

"Oh," Fred suggestively raised his eyebrows, "he's in the back office," he said, pointing toward a corner Willow hadn't noticed. "Assuming Lee let you in, did he not bother to tell you that?"

"No, I suppose he's not in a helpful mood this morning," Willow mumbled. "It was nice to see you, Fred, but I have to go make this visit with George quick."

Fred smirked as he said, "If you two need the office, I can watch the little one while you're busy."

"I'm not a child!" Seth tried to interject, but he was waved away by Fred.

Willow laughed as she said, "No, he can come. I'm only returning something."

"Can't return your virginity, Willow," he teased.

"Oh, my Merlin, Fred!" she whispered, swatting at his chest. "Too far."

"Hm, I'm sure, Ms. Sweetwood," Fred grinned. "Tell Georgie I say hi."

Willow rolled her eyes as she motioned for Seth to follow her. He quickly ducked under the arm of Fred, who was trying to stop him, and met her outside a door labeled "OFFICE." He was grumbling something under his breath as Willow quickly knocked on the door.

Once she heard a soft "come in" from the other side, she insisted Seth stay outside, but she was quickly shot down as Seth argued that he needed to keep her on schedule. They continued their whispering, but, apparently, were taking too long to move inside for George. Their fight ceased as the door was swung open by a disgruntled looking ginger man.

But his entire mood seemed to shift as his eyes fell on Willow. Her fight with Seth was forgotten as he pulled her into an embrace, wrapping his arms tightly around her body. As he breathed out a soft "I missed you" into her hair, Willow's heart was pounding in her chest so hard that she was afraid George would be able to feel it.

As he released her, she watched his eyes shift from her to the man standing behind her. He quickly cleared his throat, taking a step back from her and holding out his hand to Seth.

"George Weasley," he announced.

"Seth Kinder," he challenged, accepting George's hand with a firm shake.

They seemed to be staring each other down, daring the other to let go first. Willow rolled her eyes at the display of testosterone happening before clearing her throat to catch their attention. Both men finally ended their handshake as they smiled back at her. She glanced between the two of them, noticing how they were both opposites of each other in the looks department.

"So, to what do I owe this pleasure," George side-eyed Seth, "Willow?"

"Wanted to return this," she explained, quickly slipping his ring off her finger to hold out to him.

George grinned down at her as he took the ring from her hand and placed it onto his pointer finger again. "Want to get rid of the memories of last night al–"

"Okay! I think it's time Seth and I head out," she interrupted. "We have to get a move on, don't we Seth."

Willow heard Seth mumble something about how he'd been saying that this entire time, but she chose to ignore it as she looked back to George, who had a cheeky smile plastered on his face. She rolled her eyes, attempting to conceal the smile daring to give away her true feelings. Then she turned to leave the office.

But she had only made it a few steps before George had grabbed her arm to turn her back to him. Her breath got caught in her throat as she was whipped around. She looked up at a smirking George as he spoke.

"What's your schedule like this week?" he questioned, his hand still on her arm. "We want to have another product meeting with the whole group."

"I'm free most nights, send me a letter with a plan and I may just respond."

Suddenly, Seth appeared by her side and said, "Maybe I can come."

George looked over at him long enough to say a strong "no" before turning back to Willow.

"We should get going, George," she softly said.

"If you must," he sighed. "But one last thing."

George pulled Willow in for a small kiss, which she happily returned as she placed a light hand on his chest. But she was soon pulled away by an annoyed Seth who practically dragged her out of his office. She was able to shout a goodbye to everyone in the store that could hear her before they were back on the streets of Diagon Alley.

"Sorry, Willow, but it's already 10:20, and I know Suzanne is a stickler for time," he apologized once the door to the shop had closed behind them.

"You're fine, Seth," she said, waving a hand in front of her before wiping her mouth off. "That was very unprofessional of me, so I also apologize."

Seth seemed to feel the need to move on from the subject, which Willow was happy to do. They walked back to the front steps of the bakery in silence, and once they were there, Seth held out his arm for her to grab. The moment she touched his skin, they were whisked away with a loud Crack.

Once they had caught their balance on the new ground under their feet. Willow looked around at her new surroundings. There was nothing but seemingly familiar grassy hillsides rolling along the horizon for her to see. The duo had landed at the end of a long dirt driveway, leading to a quaint wooden farmhouse.

As they began walking down the winding path, she glanced at the large pond to her left and the white barn to her right. Chickens and dogs ran around the open grounds, and she thought she could hear the noises of various other farm animals sounding from inside the nearby barn.

Once they had reached the end of their walk, a man and a woman sitting on rocking chairs on the front porch of the farmhouse stood up to greet them. Willow noticed the knitting that one of them had been working on remained suspended as it continued to work on what looked to be a scarf.

After a few brief introductions to Willow, the four of them set off on a tour of the area. The owners–Suzanne and Paanik Kamba–explained how they had met while Suzanne on a safari trip to Kenya, fell in love, and moved to the countryside to raise their children. Once they had moved all their kids out of the house, they were looking for something to do. That brought them to cheese making, which is what brought Willow and Seth to them. The whole group was excitedly chatting about their future partnership as they wandered around the farmlands.

After a few lengthy discussions for an hour or so about sales projections, fridge storage, and cheese flavors, Suzanne and Paanik had excused themselves to their house to further discuss their wants and needs from this partnership.

They had been kind enough to make everyone cheese sandwiches out of their newest products and the croissants Willow had brought. So she now found herself sitting under a large tree by the pond, tucking into her warm lunch, as Seth skipped rocks across the still waters.

Neither of them had spoken in a while as it seemed that Seth had something on his mind and Willow didn't want to intrude. But she was tired of the silence, so she finally sat her sandwich down to walk over to him.

"Seth, we've been working together for a month, but I feel like I barely know you," she started, seeming to startle him since the rock he had just tossed sunk to the bottom of the pond.

As he straightened himself out he turned to look at her. "Maybe that's because Everly never shuts up."

"Seth!"

He chuckled as he bent down to pick up a rock. "You know I'm joking, Willow," he teased. "What would you like to know?"

She watched as he rubbed the rock in his hand before lightly tossing it toward the pond. It skimmed across the top three times before dipping underwater. As he searched for another rock on the shore, she sat down on a larger boulder a few feet away from him.

"My first question is this: You have an English accent and your mum lives in London, so why didn't I see you at Hogwarts?" she questioned, crossing her legs.

"Probably because I didn't go there."

"Am I wasting my time here?" she sighed.

He turned to smirk at her as he tossed his next rock. Willow caught herself mesmerized at the way his blue eyes were twinkling while he said, "No, I'm sorry. I'll be open now."

Once the rock had sunk into the water, he walked to where she was sitting. He settled into a place next to the rock she sat on, leaning back on his hands to look out on the water.

"I grew up in England, and right before I turned nine we moved to the Netherlands for my dad's stupid wizarding work," he began. "But he died when I was fourteen, so we moved back to England. But I decided to finish my education at Beauxbatons."

"I'm sorry about your dad."

"Doesn't matter to me, never liked him much," he dismissed. "Probably better off without him."

Willow tried to look at him out of the corner of her eye to search for a sign of sadness, but when she was met with a stone-cold expression she decided to move on. "Uh, well, do you have any siblings?"

"I have two younger brothers who are both at Hogwarts right now," he said, sitting up to play with the small pebbles on the ground. "And since I know you're going to ask this next: my mum works at a muggle bank in London."

"So, is she where you got your love for accounting from?" she joked, keeping her eyes on the water.

Seth sighed. "Love is a strong word, but, yes, I suppose you can blame her for it. I'm very close with her since I still live at home currently," he softly said. "Don't get me wrong, I love being a wizard, but muggle maths just always made more sense to me."

Willow smiled at his comment about his mum. It reminded her of her relationship with her own mother and grandmother. She turned to look at him but found his eyes already on her. Quickly averting her gaze back to the water, she asked, "What do you want to do long term?"

"Isn't this the same question you asked me during my job interview?"

"Probably," she sighed. "But, now that you're hired, you can tell me your real answer."

"Well, I plan to work at Sweetwood's 'til I die."

Willow laughed, "Seth, I've seen your resume, I know that's not true."

"Okay, okay. I don't exactly know yet," he admitted. "I'm only twenty and still at university, so I don't really know what I want to do just yet. We're not all geniuses with our lives planned out at twenty-one, Willow."

Seth lightly nudged her as she chuckled, "I can assure you I don't have my life planned out. Opening your own business at my age is not easy, and maybe not even smart."

"The Weasleys seem to be doing just fine."

"Well, they're different," she insisted. "They were born to do this."

"And you're not?"

Not wanting to have this conversation again, she waved him off with a small, "I don't know."

The duo set in comfortable silence for a few moments, Willow watching as a few fished bobbed to the top of the water every so often. This entire area reminded her of Kings Hill, so she had felt at home the whole time. The chilly November weather was the perfect temperature as she breathed in the clean air around her. The backdrop of the lake looked similar for reasons other than home, but she couldn't seem to put her finger on where she'd seen these hills before.

"What's your relationship with him anyway?" Seth suddenly questioned, breaking Willow from the daydream she'd been living in. As he spoke, he quickly stood up to find another rock in an attempt to avoid looking at her.

"Who? George?" she inquired, also standing up to join him by the shore.

Seth nodded as he skipped another rock four times across the once still waters.

"Oh, we're just friends," she stated, wrapping her arms around herself as a cold breeze blew past them.

He looked over at her to notice her chills before quickly slipping off the jacket he was wearing and placing it on her shivering shoulders. Willow gave him a thankful look as she slipped her arms into the holes of the jacket and pulled it tightly around her. Willow felt his eyes stay on her for a beat longer than normal before he turned back to the water.

"That's weird. I just don't remember the last time I made out with a friend of mine," he quipped, leaning down to search for another rock.

Willow rolled her eyes. "Inappropriate workplace conversation," she announced. "And we didn't make out this morning."

"I don't think we're at work."

"Well, then I plead the fifth," she sighed. "Why do you care anyway?"

As he tossed the smooth rock in his hand across the water, he simply stated, "Just don't want you to get hurt."

"Thank you, Seth," she started. "But I think I can take care of myself."

Seth turned to look at Willow's face as if he was searching for the next words to say, but before he could open his mouth they were interrupted by yelling from the farmhouse. Willow shot him a shy smile before turning to grab the sandwich she'd left on the grass and leading him back to the front porch.

Seth and Willow met the Kambas inside their home where the four of them had a short discussion of the final details of their business dealings. Willow made the split-second decision to tell them her opening date was February 14th, meaning she could no longer prolong her decision. She knew it would be something she'd either live to regret or be thankful she'd done.

Once they had all shook hands, mocked up, and signed contracts, and the Kambas gave them several more jams, butter, and cheeses, Willow and Seth walked partway down the driveway before they Apparated home.

Seth had tried to insist that his assistance was needed for the rest of the day, but Willow had swiftly dismissed him so he could enjoy the rest of his Sunday. This time she remembered to give back the accessories she'd been given, so once Seth had no more excuses to stay he had left.

Willow had been welcomed home by only a cat, meaning that Juliet was at work for the night. After she had made her way into the bedroom, she found an orange envelope sitting on her bed. She quickly ripped open the note and read:

Willow,

Getting to see you twice within 24 hours was a nice treat. Thanks for bringing my ring back, although I would have been okay with you keeping it. Looked better on you anyway. I wish that prat hadn't stopped us this morning, I had half a mind to deck the kid if he hadn't dragged you out of here so quickly. Let me know if he ever gives you any trouble.

Anyway, I hope your weekend is clear because that's when we're all free. I expect you at our apartment Saturday at 5:00, we're even getting off early to work on your product–and totally not as an excuse for Fred to go on a date later that night. Hope that works for you. Can't wait to see you, beautiful.

George

(your neighbor)

Willow sighed as she read over the letter. She was happy to have something to look forward to this week. Even if it was for a work meeting, the weekend couldn't come faster.

☆☆☆


	18. Business Dealings

Willow was becoming a woman of habit. Her weeks consisted of meetings, stress, and too much flour and sugar. There was nothing more in this world that she wanted than to open her bakery, but her decision to tell the Kambas her opening date was in February was proving to be a stressor already.

Valentine's Day had always been her tentative date, but nothing had made it real until her meeting last week. In fact, that meeting at the farm had made everything a lot more real for her in a way she had yet to experience. Reality was finally settling into her life, and she didn't know quite how to react.

The bakery hadn't even opened yet and she already had two business dealings: the Kamba's cheese and her product with the Weasleys. The sign, the employees, the contracts, it was all slowly weighing down on her. But, at the same time, she loved it.

It was exactly what she had always dreamt of, and while she knew it wasn't always going to be easy, Willow was more than ready to see what the future had in store for Sweetwood's.

All she knew now is that it was nearly time for her next meeting at the Weasley's place. One thing she loved about working with them was that even if she was going over there to make decisions about the future of their products, she was going to have fun. Plus, she had to admit to herself, that she was always excited to see George.

Ever since Seth and she had visited him at work last Sunday, she had been itching to see him again. Even though he had expressed in his letter that he wasn't bothered by Seth that much, she still felt a little guilty and embarrassed for how he had acted. She only hoped it wasn't going to affect the way any of them looked at her.

Seth was a hard person to read. Spending so much time alone with him over the last month had made Willow used to the way he can get around people. But she always forgot how odd he can act in social settings. She chalked it up to moving around and losing his dad at a young age since she didn't want to blame him for things he possibly couldn't help. Although Seth had now made it clear there was a reason why he was not in charge of customer service.

Willow's mind wandered back to the dresser in front of her. Her current clothes were dusted with cocoa powder and flour. Juliet was at work—still making up for asking off last weekend—so Willow was left to fend to herself in the wardrobe department.

She had never been one to care too much about what she was wearing, but the knowledge that George was going to be there caused her to suddenly care a whole lot more. But there was no need for her to worry about him. She was content in her relationship with George—whatever that relationship may be—so whatever she wore would be okay. It was just supposed to be a casual thing.

After she finally picked out a pair of jeans and one of her brother's cable-knit sweaters, Willow pulled on a pair of socks and slipped her feet into the first shoes she could find. Then she looked herself over in the mirror one last time to run her fingers under her eyes to remove any smeared mascara. Once she was satisfied with her look, she bustled through the living room, stopping long enough to scratch Bartholomew's ears and wave her wand at the bag of cat food.

She paused in the back doorway to ensure his bowl was filled before she blew him a kiss and turned on her heel. After bounding down the stairs to her kitchen—there was something magical about calling it her kitchen—she took the box of macarons out of the storage fridge. Grabbing her keys and making her way to the front door, Willow had a lightness about her. Something must have been in the air because she was filled with excitement while she locked the door behind her.

She would get to see George tonight. There was a part of her that still felt nervous, but it was becoming wildly outweighed by the happiness he brought to her. Even just being around him made her mood skyrocket in a way she was still learning how to deal with.

They weren't dating, and there was still a small part of her that liked to remind her of this. But it didn't seem like anything was going to dampen her mood as she strode across the windy streets of Diagon Alley.

She bypassed the front of the store as she headed toward the entrance to their upstairs apartment. Even though she knew he wouldn't be inside, there was still a part of her that made her check each time she could see into the windows of the shop.

Once she had reached the dark brown door, Willow paused. She realized now that the only time she'd been inside their apartment was in the party setting. There was no note to instruct her on how to get in this time, and she felt weird just barging in.

She shifted the container of cookies to her other hip as she thought about what to do. There was no way they would hear a knock from the bottom of the stairs, but Willow also didn't know what else to do. It was too cold to stand out here all night, and she wasn't about to start tossing rocks at the windows.

Just as she was about to give up, her eyes finally landed on an intricately carved button to the right of the doorframe. Of course, a doorbell. Willow silently kicked herself for not seeing it sooner since the time had probably already ticked past 5:00.

Sighing, she reached her hand out to press down on the button. She paused for a moment to listen for the sound. Once she finally heard a faint bell ringing through the door, she took a step back to wait when a large squirt of water shot out from the door's peephole.

It dosed her face and sweater in cold water, sending a shock through her once warm body. Of course, it was some sort of prank doorbell; she didn't expect anything less from them. She let out a frustrated sigh as she used her sleeve to wipe the water off her face before she reached for her wand. But before she could pull it out of her bag, the door swung open.

"Oh," Fred let out a sigh, "it's you."

Willow pursed her lips as she looked at Fred, who was currently looking over her to the streets. She reminded herself that she was in a good mood before she said, "Yes, it is me."

Fred had seemingly already forgotten she was standing in front of him since her words snapped his attention forward once more. He took one last look behind her before he finally acknowledged her properly.

"Sorry, Willow," he stated, tucking a loose strand of hair back into the small bun on the back of his head. "I was just hoping you were someone else."

"Story of my life," she grumbled.

He stepped aside to let her finally walk into the warm front hall. "No, it's fine...I guess we can still get work done," he breathed out. "I suppose George will be happy to see you."

"Brilliant," she mocked, annoyed with the water and Fred's lack of enthusiasm.

She didn't want to let it break down her mood, it wasn't like she was expecting Fred to fall to his knees in joy, but she usually got a cheerier greeting than that. Whoever he was waiting on must be spectacular.

With one last look outside, he finally shut the door and led Willow upstairs to the main area. Their apartment was still styled the same way as the party, only this time there were a lot fewer people and a few more stray cups and plates.

Willow set her bag and box of macarons down on the counter as Fred knocked on the bedroom doors down the hall. She was finally able to pull her wand from the bag as he wandered back into the kitchen. Fred now seemed to notice the water still on her sweater.

"Doorbell get ya?"

She scoffed before wordlessly casting a drying spell on the front of her sweater. Grabbing at the hem, she held it out slightly to check for any missed spots before she shot her middle finger at a giggling Fred.

Before she had a chance to give him a piece of her mind, Willow whipped her head toward the sound of a door opening. George appeared in the doorway, pausing to rub a towel on his hair and tossing it into the depths of his room. He ran his hands through his still-damp hair to push it out of his face as he stepped out in the hallway to close the door.

He was dressed extremely casually in a pair of grey sweatpants and a dark green hoodie, the name of a city Willow didn't recognize was stitched across the front. The hoodie clung to his slightly wet body as he moved, causing Willow to swear under her breath as he walked toward her.

She glared at Fred who had snorted at her reaction, but before she could fight with him, George reached where she stood. He quickly wrapped her in a tight hug, alleviating any stress about the night she once held. She snaked her arms around his waist, burying her head into his chest and breathing in the mix of citrus and wood from his body wash.

He lightly kissed the top of her head before they broke apart at the sound of Fred's groans. Willow rolled her eyes as she leaned over to swat his hand away from the macarons.

"Those are not for you."

"Don't mind him, Willow," George said, moving to sit at the kitchen island. "He's just nervous about his date."

"I am not nervous, asshole," Fred retorted. "Elizabeth and I have been on plenty of dates, this one is no different."

George snorted. "Except this is the one where you're finally going to man-up and make it official with her."

"You're one to talk," he mumbled before speaking up. "You hear that, Willow? I have a big night ahead of me so I deserve a cookie."

"You cannot have a cookie because I brought those as testers," Willow explained, crossing her arms before taking the seat next to George.

Fred leaned his arms on the counter across from them as he pouted. "But we already figured out the recipe I thought."

"You did what?" Willow darted her eyes to George who responded by putting a reassuring arm along the back of her chair, his hand floating above her arm.

"Well, one night we had a stroke of genius and figured out that charming each individual macaron would never work," he soothed. "So we developed all these potions to mix into the initial batch of batter."

"Oh, well you're going to need to give me some samples of that to make sure it still works when incorporated into the batter," she insisted.

Fred waved a hand in the air to dismiss her comment as he said, "We'll get to it."

This earned him another eye roll from Willow before she questioned, "Why am I even here if you guys already have it all figured out?"

"Aw! You're gonna leave before I even come out of my room?"

Willow turned her attention to the hallway where she saw a shirtless Lee emerge from his room. He was tying a silk scarf over his hair as he walked into the kitchen. Willow greeted him as he took the empty place next to Fred, reaching his hand toward the macarons. She smacked his hand away too, which earned her a dirty look.

"Are you trying to look like a douchebag, Lee?" George quipped.

Lee let out an exaggerated sigh before stating, "You know these are my lounge clothes. But I also need Willow to know that I am more than just a pretty face."

She let out a laugh as the other two boys scoffed at his comment.

"I think you look very nice, Lee," she promised. "But, I didn't even think you were allowed to work on products."

Lee's eyes widened as he looked toward a suddenly very distracted George. "That was literally one time, mate! You need to stop telling people that. I'm going to get a bad rap."

"You can't deny it's a funny story, dude," Fred interjected, earning him a slap on the chest from Lee.

As the two continued to bicker, George leaned in to talk to Willow. "Since they're distracted, I wanted to tell you how beautiful you look," he murmured into her ear.

Willow kept her eyes trained on the floor as she felt a small smile play on her lips. Her good mood was quickly returning now that George was next to her. She could feel her heart rate increasing as she finally moved her eyes to meet his, but he had already turned his attention back to the boys across from them.

"Now, that they're done being immature," George ducked as a towel was thrown across the counter, "we asked you here to talk about packaging and to finalize the mood and flavor combos," he explained.

And that's what they did. The four of them spent the next couple of hours devising an exact plan on how they wanted to market the product and the moods they wanted to include in the initial trials. Once they had gotten into a steady rhythm of bouncing ideas off each other, Willow had felt herself seriously relax.

She enjoyed hanging out alone with George, but seeing him in a social setting made him all the more attractive. The way he was able to command the group's attention even with a simple clear of his throat was making it extremely difficult for Willow to concentrate on anything else but him.

More than one time throughout the night, Willow had caught herself watching his hands move. They never stopped moving. Willow had noticed that his fingers were constantly playing with the ring around his finger, drumming on the table, or flipping his wand between each long finger.

The only time she had felt uncomfortable was when she was left alone with Lee while the twins stepped onto their balcony. She didn't have to think twice about what they were doing when she saw large puffs of smoke float by the window. Lee had tried his best to change the subject, but she hadn't felt too much like talking since she was too busy trying to calm her breathing.

Thankfully they had remembered a spell to get rid of the smell this time, so Willow was able to quickly push the image out of her brain as they returned. The group had been quiet for a few moments, all unsure how to start the conversation back, but eventually, Lee had "accidentally" made his inkpot explode. Everyone's attention was soon turned to cleaning the ink off the scraps of paper that were almost ruined.

Willow's daydream was soon broken as George's arm reached across her front to grab something from the end of the counter. She looked up at him as he slowly retracted his arm back to his side. He bit his lower lip as they made eye contact, causing Willow to quickly avert her gaze.

"So," Fred began, clearing his throat. "Is everyone okay with the finalized list?"

"Read it over again," George replied, a slight nervousness in his voice.

"Written down we've got: Calming Caramel, Motivational Mango, Forgiving Fudge, Confident Coffee, Patient Pistachio, and Cheerful Cherry," Fred announced, reading off the slip of paper in his hand. "We can always workshop the names some, but I think that's a good list for now."

"I like the sound of them," Willow offered. "All the flavors will work well, and the moods make sense, too."

"Well, with that out of the way," George started after shooting a small smile at her. "Did you or Lee come up with an idea for the packaging?"

"I have a controversial idea," Lee chipped in.

"What's new?" Fred joked.

After shooting him a dirty look, Lee explained, "I know he was a dick at Angie's party, but I was thinking that—since we know he lives in London—we could get in contact with Dean again. He did help us a few times in the initial stages at Hogwarts."

"How is that contr—" Fred began before he was quickly interrupted by George.

"I don't like that idea. I'm not in the mood to involve him in this project, so I say we move onto other ideas," he shot Willow an apologetic look. "Did you come up with anything, Willow?"

She took in a breath in an attempt to calm herself before she glanced down at the notes she had written down on the entire sheet of paper. There was a small part of her that now hated everything she had come up with over the past hour, and Lee's mention of Dean had shaken her more than she wanted to admit.

"So—uh—I'm not much of an artist, so I just wrote down all my ideas," she sheepishly began. "But I'm sorta proud of it, so I hope you guys like at least part of it."

She stole another glance around the table before she finally explained, "I was thinking that we could start by reimagining the Weasley logo. Adding an 'S' that connects to the tip of the star in your logo would be a good start."

She paused to take a breath as she looked over at George who answered with an encouraging look.

"As for the packaging itself, I think we should for sure go with a rainbow theme," Willow continued. "Each macaron is going to have its own color, so I thought that could transfer onto the front of the box. It could be like a tie-dye effect coming out of the center with the name across the front..."

She heard herself trail off as she realized that she had begun rambling. After picking at the edge of the paper in her hands, she quickly slid it over to Lee and Fred.

"The rest of my ideas are on that paper, so feel free to look it over," she faltered.

George placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder as the other two men looked over the paper. "I think it sounds like you've got a lot of good ideas," he insisted.

"They need workshopping," Lee started.

"But that's what we're here to do," George pointed out.

Willow relaxed as he began to rub a small circle on her back. She was extremely proud of the ideas she had come up with, but she also knew that they had been in business longer than her, so it meant they had ways of doing things already.

She opened her mouth to keep talking but was cut off by the sound of knocking from the bottom of the staircase. Willow turned toward Fred long enough to see his head pop up at the sound. He threw down the paper before running toward the archway to—quite literally—leap down the stairs.

Turning her attention back to Lee and George as she asked, "What's up with him?"

"Oh, that's probably Elizabeth," Lee explained, not looking up from Willow's paper.

"Someone seemed very excited to see her."

George laughed. "You'd think they're in love after only two weeks. I'm glad he's finally making it official tonight, or, at least, he's supposed to."

"I suppose when you know you know," she stated as casually as possible, trying not to look at George.

Lee glanced up long enough to look between the two of them before continuing, "Yeah, we've never actually met her."

Before their conversation could continue, Fred reappeared in the archway, his arm slung around a girl. Willow watched as she awkwardly shifted under Fred's arm, clearly uncomfortable with the three pairs of eyes now on her. She made a mental note to compliment Elizabeth on the black turtleneck she had tucked into a long white skirt.

"Everyone," he motioned toward the kitchen, "this is Elizabeth. Elizabeth, this is everyone," Fred announced. "And I think this meeting is officially over."

The group of three in the kitchen silently waved at Elizabeth, who meekly waved back. George offered a polite "nice to meet you," however, Lee and Willow remained silent.

Fred glared at them all before whispering something in Elizabeth's ear, causing her to let out a small laugh as she covered her mouth. Then Fred led her toward the hallway before they disappeared into his room.

"Well, that was incredibly awkward," Willow sighed once they heard the door close.

"It was gross," Lee stated, setting the papers down.

"Gross?"

"I don't think I've ever seen him look so...in love with a girl he's brought home," he explained.

George cleared his throat. "I kind of get the impression that she's different to him. He doesn't talk about her in a way I've ever seen him talk about a girl."

"Doesn't make it any less gross," Lee insisted. "Anyway, I'm going downstairs to put all these documents and shit into the office now that we're closed."

"Okay, have fun with that," George stated before grinning over at Willow.

"Ha-ha, very funny. You're helping me," Lee said, pushing a bunch of papers into George's hands. "You can flirt with her later."

Willow laughed as she watched George stand up to follow Lee downstairs. He shot her an apologetic glance just as he turned the corner of the archway.

This now left her alone in their living area. She swung her legs around to shift the barstool to face outward so she could survey the entire area. Her eyes landed on a stereo in the corner, so she stood up to investigate. But before she could make it past the couches, her head turned at the sound of Fred's door opening.

Elizabeth glanced around the apartment before her eyes landed on a frozen-in-place Willow. She laughed at her petrified appearance before asking, "Did I catch you doing something you shouldn't be?"

Willow's body relaxed as she laughed. "No, no. I just didn't know what I was about to see walk out."

"Oh, yes. Fred can be very unpredictable," she replied. "But he's finally in the shower after spending ten minutes begging me to join."

Willow laughed as she made her way to one of the couches. "Well, in that case, you're welcome to join me out here while you wait on him. George and Lee have gone down to their office for a moment."

"I was wondering if I had already managed to scare everyone off," she joked before moving to sit on the couch opposite Willow.

"No, of course, not," she reassured. "Just two awkward boys who don't know how to be alone with someone they don't know."

"Wow. What an astute observation," Elizabeth laughed. "How long have you and George been dating?"

"O-oh! No!" she rushed out. "We're not dating."

"My bad. I didn't mean to make things weird..." Elizabeth trailed off, looking anywhere but Willow.

"Merlin, no, you're fine," she insisted, waving a hand in the air. "I'm not even sure what my relationship with him would be? Friends with benefits perhaps? Who knows. I'm not even sure why I'm telling this to a girl I just met to be quite honest."

Elizabeth laughed as Willow nervously picked at her nail, she didn't want to scare her off already. Although that was the first time she had seriously considered what to label her relationship with George as.

"I'm always okay with listening to relationship problems, trust me," Elizabeth admitted. "I know the feeling."

Even though she already knew the answer, Willow felt it polite to ask, "Have you and Fred made it official?"

"We haven't," she sighed, "but if he doesn't say something soon, I'm going to. I'm not one to sit around and wait on a man, no matter how dreamy he is."

The two girls laughed before Willow continued, "I should probably try to have a similar mantra in my life. I'm not really in the mood to have a similar relationship to the last guy in my life."

"Oh, Godric, I've totally been there. But I think you'll be fine with George," Elizabeth replied. "Freddie makes it seem like you guys are already dating whenever he talks about you."

"Wonderful. Glad to know that Fred is talking about me and George," she sarcastically joked. "We haven't even been on a date, so I would hardly say his observations are accurate."

"Well, maybe he knows something you don't?"

Willow raised her eyebrows. "Do you know something I don't?"

"Uh—"

But before Willow could get an answer out of Elizabeth, Fred reemerged from his bedroom. He was now dressed in a cleanly pressed pair of black dress pants and a loose-fitting blue button-up. As he walked, he was rubbing a towel on his hair. Willow stopped a small laugh from escaping as she watched Elizabeth straighten her posture.

"Talking about me, ladies?" he drawled out, leaping over the back of the couch to settle next to his date.

Elizabeth smiled at Willow as if to say "watch this" before she casually replied, "Talking about how hot George is actually."

Fred let out a dramatic gasp as he quickly removed his arm from around Elizabeth's shoulder. He continued to clutch his heart in fake pain as he choked out a soft, "It's always the ones you trust most."

Willow laughed as Elizabeth rolled her eyes at Fred's antics before she leaned in to kiss his cheek. "You're so dramatic, you know that right?"

A cheeky grin now plastered on his face, Fred straightened up as he snaked his arm back around her waist. "Yes, but you like it," he teased.

Fred then leaned in to place a kiss on Elizabeth's glossy lips. Her hand floated to his shoulder, but before they moved any further, Fred broke away. He waved a finger at Willow as he said, "Naughty, naughty, Ms. Sweetwood. You're gonna have to pay for the rest of the show, hate to break it to you."

Elizabeth lightly hit his chest as she laughed out, "You're such a dick sometimes."

He grinned back at her before running his tongue across his lips to get rid of the lip gloss that had been transferred to his mouth moments ago. Willow heard him mumble something about cherries as he grabbed Elizabeth's hand to stand up.

After tossing the towel still in his other hand across the back of the couch, Elizabeth ran her hands through his hair to make it look more presentable. Fred stood there, eyes closed and a lazy grin across his face, until she was satisfied.

"I think it's time to leave now, sweetheart," he stated as he wrapped his hand around Elizabeth's waist. "We have dinner reservations. Plus, I don't want you to further embarrass me in front of the lovely Willow."

Elizabeth laughed as she turned to bid her goodbye. Willow returned it with a small smile and an eyebrow raise. As the couple walked past her, Fred stopped to pat Willow's head before he leaned in to whisper, "Make sure to clean our couch if it gets used."

Willow felt her stomach drop as she looked over her shoulder to watch the two of them leave. Of course, Fred would know everything. She shouldn't be surprised, but it still did make her feel weird toward him. She wouldn't want to know everything that goes on between Elizabeth and him.

Before she could give herself a chance to fully process the idea that Fred may know what had happened last weekend, George and Lee reappeared at the top of the stairs. She stood up from the couch to greet them as Lee began to talk about how hungry he was.

"Do you guys want to come get food with me?" he questioned, rubbing his bare stomach.

As if on cue, Willow felt her stomach grumble. With Juliet working all week and her schedule busier than normal, neither of them had had a chance to go to the store. She was inclined to say yes as an excuse to not only eat but also spend more time with George, but she was beaten to it.

"I actually think Willow and I are good here, mate," George stated, clapping his hand on Lee's shoulder.

Willow shot George a confused look, which he ignored, before turning to look at Lee. His eyes were already on her as he dramatically sighed, "Fine, I know when I'm not wanted."

He stalked back to his room to put on a shirt as Willow turned to face George. "Not to be a rude guest, but I'm actually kind of hungry," she admitted.

"So am I," he smiled.

"Then why—"

Lee's door flung open, cutting off her sentence. She and George watched in silence as he breezed through the living room, not even bothering to say goodbye before he was down the stairs and out the door.

Willow turned back to George who was already in the kitchen. She followed suit, taking a seat at the island. But he was too busy rummaging in the lower cabinets to notice her, so she sat in silence until he finally stood up and turned to her with a flourishing motion.

Holding back a laugh, she looked over the light pink apron George had put on over his clothes. It was far too short for him, the end of it only just passed his lap. There was a small name stitched into the front pocket, and the edges of it were lined with dainty white lace.

"I've been looking for an excuse to wear Mum's apron," he explained, smoothing it down. "And don't worry, I have one for you, too."

Willow let a loud laugh out as he tossed the other apron behind him to her. She stood up and held it out in front of her to inspect. It matched the one George was wearing, only it was light blue. After slipping it over her head, she wrapped the strings around her waist to tie at the back.

Once she stepped around the counter to where George stood, she gave a small spin to show off. He smiled down at her before pulling her in for a tight hug. Willow was quickly learning that this was his favorite thing to do and she wasn't complaining. Any chance to get closer to him, she would take it.

As they pulled apart, he sighed before turning back to the fridge and asking, "What're you in the mood for?"

☆☆☆


	19. Your Song

"What're you in the mood for?"

As she moved back to her barstool, Willow laughed. "You made it seem like you already had a plan."

"Well, you're hungry, right?"

"Yes, I think that's been established."

"Okay, so then I'm going to cook for you," George smiled.

She chuckled, "Yes, George. I can gather that much. What I'm wondering is what you're going to cook for us."

His brow furrowed as he turned to look around the kitchen. Once he had rummaged around their cabinets for a few moments, he finally reemerged with his arms full of all sorts of ingredients. As he dumped everything onto the counter, he swatted Willow's hand away.

"This is my thing tonight, Willow," he insisted. "I don't want any help from you, okay? Let me do this for you."

Willow settled back in her chair as she felt her face warm up. He wanted to cook for her, that wasn't something you do for a person you didn't care about. She had been raised to show her love through cooking; what if George's mother had taught him something similar? Or maybe she was looking too far into a simple, friendly gesture.

"How's Italian sound?" he asked, bringing her attention back to him.

Willow smiled over at him as she watched him gather what he would need. "Sounds like a great idea," she replied.

George began to put away the things he didn't need before he turned to grab a cutting board and a sharp knife. Willow watched as he began to sloppily cut into the white onion he soon placed on the board. In an effort to stop herself from trying to correct his positioning, she asked him a question.

"Are you going to make your own sauce?"

He paused his chopping long enough to rearrange his grip on the onion as he said, "It's the way my mum always made it growing up, so yes, I am going to try."

She lightly smiled even though George was too busy staring at the onion to see it. After wincing a few too many times as he nearly chopped off a finger, Willow finally broke down.

"George! Can I please at least help you cut your veggies? I don't think I know how to reattach a finger," she anxiously breathed out.

He laughed as he looked up at her. Waving the large knife in the air, he responded, "You're not going to trick me that easily, my dear. You'd be surprised to find out this isn't my first battle with an onion, I know what I'm doing."

"I'm sure you do, but your hand placement is making me extremely nervous."

"Everything makes you nervous," he pointed out.

"I'm ignoring that to state that you holding a knife makes me more anxious than anything else."

"Well," he sighed, "if you're that worried about me, why don't you distract yourself."

Willow pursed her lips as he used his knife to point toward the large stereo in the corner of the room. "Go pick us out some groovy music, and then you can even pick a bottle of wine from the drink fridge," he happily stated.

She opened her mouth to argue but was cut off by George placing a hand in the air before he motioned her away from the kitchen. Hanging her head in defeat, she swung her legs off the barstool and trudged toward the basket of CDs in the corner.

Admittedly, Willow had wanted to look through them all night so she wasn't too upset, but she would never tell him that. He would probably be too busy cutting a finger off to hear her. She laughed to herself as she began to thumb through the large collection of music the boys owned.

As she moved to sit on the floor, she announced loud enough for George to hear, "You guys have more CDs than minutes in a day it seems."

George chuckled as he dumped the onion into the pan behind him and turned back to face her. He began to wipe down his cutting board as he explained.

"Well, the three of us have always loved music, we've been collecting CDs for years," George began. "But, after I lost my ear," he lazily motioned to the left side of his head, "music, talking, just listening to things, in general, became a lot more important to me."

"No wonder you talk so much," she quipped, still flipping through the CDs.

George playfully rolled his eyes as he turned back to start chopping something Willow couldn't see. "I don't see you complaining," he shot back.

She responded with a laugh as one of their CDs finally caught her attention. Smiling to herself, Willow popped the silver disk out of the case labeled "ELTON" in terrible handwriting.

Once she had slid the CD into the stereo's designated slot, she fiddled with the buttons for a moment before an upbeat melody belted out of the speakers. She quickly grabbed the volume button to turn it down before she turned to make her way to their beverage fridge.

Humming along to the song as she walked, George picked his head up to grin at her as she passed by. When she reached the small white fridge to the right of the kitchen, she swung the door open to find only two bottles of wine. She picked them both up to turn back toward the kitchen.

"George, there's literally two bottles in here," she stated, holding each wine out.

"Guess that means your job is easy," he chuckled.

Rolling her eyes, she replied, "You just wanted to get rid of me."

"And why would I want to do that?"

"I don't know, you tell me."

George merely laughed in response as she turned back to the fridge. After reading over the labels, Willow put the bottle of white away, leaving the red wine in her hand. Then she placed the bottle on the counter and began to rummage through the cabinets for two glasses.

"Uh—We don't exactly own any wine glasses," George revealed as he filled a large pot with water from the sink. "We can just use some mugs, I guess."

Willow laughed as she moved to the cabinet that George had pointed her toward. After opening it, she reached in to grab two mugs then turned back to the counter. She poured them both a decent-sized amount before twisting the top of the wine back on.

She handed George his mug before she sat back on her barstool. As she took a sip of the rich wine, George stepped away from the stove to lean his forearms on the kitchen island, leaving the spoon to stir the sauce on its own.

"So, why'd you pick Elton John?" he inquired after taking a few sips from his mug.

"My mum loves him, so we grew up listening to him a lot," Willow explained. "She likes to say he's the greatest thing to come from Muggle history, but I think she just says that to mess with my dad."

"He's a Muggle, isn't he?"

"Yep, my brother, Leo, too," she replied as George turned back to watch the sauce in his pan.

"Was that weird to grow up with them?"

She propped her head on her hand as she said, "Probably from the outside eye, but it's all I've ever known so I don't think it was weird."

"That makes enough sense," George replied, turning back to face her. "Reckon that explains why you made me do everything by hand when we baked."

"Well, you know my grandmother was the one that taught me everything in the kitchen."

"Ah, right, of course. How is she by the way?"

"Um—she's doing fine I suppose," Willow quietly replied as she ran her finger around the rim of her mug. "I haven't called home in a while, but I probably should."

"On the bright side, since you don't feel the constant need to check in with them that could mean she's doing just fine," he said in an attempt to reassure her.

"I suppose that's one way to look at it..." she trailed off.

The music was soon the only sound in the room as George awkwardly started to look around for a way to change the subject. His eyes fell on a loaf of bread Lee had bought earlier that week, so he grabbed it to hold out to her.

"Do you want to help me finish dinner?"

"Are you letting me help out of pity since you made me talk about my sick grandmother?" she lightly teased.

George playfully rolled his eyes. "We can continue talking about her if you'd like."

"You know I'm joking, but yes I do want to help," she stated, sliding off the barstool to join him on the other side of the counter.

George explained her job—cutting the bread to toast in the oven—to which Willow responded with a comment about overworking her. They had laughed for a moment before turning back to their respective stations, Elton's voice still filling the room.

They continued to work in silence for a few moments. Willow was slicing the final part of bread off as she instinctively began to hum and sway her hips to the current song.

"Is 'Goodbye Yellow Brick Road' one of your favorites?" George questioned, causing her to turn toward him.

"It is, however, my real favorite is 'Your Song.'"

"Willow," he leaned his head down, "I don't write music."

"You're so annoying," she laughed.

"Yes, and yet you still stick around."

She pursed her lips. "Do I?"

George grinned over at her before he turned to take the boiling pot off the stove. Once he had dumped the pasta through the colander, he made his way to where Willow still stood. She froze as he placed a hand on her jaw, lightly pressing his thumb on her lips.

"I hope you do."

Pulling her chin toward him, he pressed his mouth onto hers. Willow happily kissed him back as she realized how much she had missed the taste of him on her lips. His hands found her waist as she wrapped a hand around the back of his head.

George lifted his head to look down at her, but their kiss was quickly forgotten as the familiar piano medley played out from the speaker. Before she knew what was happening, George had taken a step back to delicately grab the hem of his apron and curtsey in front of her.

Then he stepped back to her, dragging his hand down her arm to grab her hand. She shot him a confused look as he smirked down at her. He lifted her hands to place around his neck before shifting his large hands to the small of her back.

As the song continued, George stepped backward until they were out of the kitchen. And, as the chorus started, he began to lightly sway with Willow. As the notes of "Your Song" continued to soar around them, he pulled her body closer to begin lazily spinning them in circles. 

Willow quickly felt the happiness that radiated off of George overtake her as a large smile played across her face. They continued the motion of swinging throughout the living room, George occasionally pulling Willow into his chest and wrapping his arms around her back as they slowly spun.

She wanted to live in this moment forever. Nothing would ever be able to compare to the way she felt in his arms. Their hearts seemed to beat in time to the music, each piano note sending a surge through her body, and she never wanted to lose the feeling. They had only known each other for a short time, and yet she felt comforted just being around George.

As the final chorus ended, George let go of one of Willow's hands to spin her outward before motioning for her to twist back in so that her back was pressed against his chest.

He held her close to him as the song faded out and their dancing turned into slow sways. With his arms still pressed firmly around her, Willow glanced up at him just as he was looking down at her. Time seemed to freeze as she laid her head back on his chest. Willow felt her heart butterfly as George pressed a soft kiss on her forehead.

"It's a good song," he whispered, still looking down at her.

"I think it's called 'Your Song,'" she quipped.

"How about our song?"

She smiled up at him as she playfully rolled her eyes. "So cheesy."

He grinned down at her and, as the next song began, he spun her out of his arms. With his warm presence gone from her body, Willow felt a small chill go up her spine. As much as had to admit she liked him, there was still a small voice in the back of her head telling her that he didn't feel the same way.

And she was tired of it. Being back in their apartment had caused memories of her panic attack during Angelina's party to rise, and she didn't want to go through that every time George breathed near her.

He made her nervous, but it was an exciting kind of nervous. It was almost a feeling that she craved whenever she was away from him.

Lost in her thoughts, she hadn't heard George announce that dinner was ready as he walked back to the stove. She was still standing in the middle of their living room, so she quickly sped back to the kitchen island.

As she settled into the barstool, George turned away from the stove to hand her a plate of steaming pasta, a toasted piece of bread balanced on the edge. Willow smiled over at him before accepting the plate.

As he fixed his own dinner, Willow grabbed the bottle of wine to pour herself another mug-full. This was going to be the night they finally talked about things, and she was going to make sure of it.

She continued to mull over what she wanted to say as George took the seat next to hers, a full plate in his hands.

"You know, I'm impressed. This all looks very good," Willow said, picking up her napkin to place in her lap. "I think your mum would be proud."

His mouth was already full of food so George was not able to respond to her. He simply shot her a wonky grin as he chewed on the pasta. Willow gave him a soft smile before she turned to grab her mug.

After taking several large gulps, she finally picked up her fork to take a few small bites. George had done a good job at preparing their dinner, but the impending conversation was causing Willow's stomach to churn too much to be able to eat.

They continued to sit in silence as Willow focused more on the wine in her mug than the food on her plate. George had nearly cleared his plate—apparently, all the Weasley men ate with a sense of urgency—by the time she was taking her third bite. He seemed too busy enjoying himself to notice as she stared deeper into her wine.

But this wasn't Divination—which was a class Willow seldom paid attention to anyway—so there were no future-telling tea leaves at the bottom of her mug. The only way to find out the future of her relationship was to swallow her bubbling nerves and ask him. She took a deep breath in as she set her wine down to turn toward George. However, before she could rush out her unprepared speech, he cut in.

"Do you hate what I made?" he quietly asked, picking up his bread to drag across the leftover sauce.

Willow's eyes widened. "No! No! Of course not, I think you did a wonderful job," she attempted to reassure. "I just...have a lot on my mind I suppose."

"Is this about last weekend?" he questioned as he placed his bread down. "Did I make you do something you didn't want to? Because, Willow, that's the last thing I would ever want to do to you, and if I did—"

"George, Merlin, no. You didn't do anything wrong, I promise," she interrupted, placing her hand up.

He breathed out a sigh of relief before straightening his posture once again. "Well, if that's not it, then what is it? I know something's worrying you because you've been picking at your nails since we sat down. And you only seem to do that when you're nervous about something."

Looking down at her left hand, she hadn't even noticed that she was tearing away at the skin around her thumb. She didn't know whether to be embarrassed or flattered, but she was leaning toward the former at the moment. But it was now or never. He was explicitly asking her what was on her mind, so she needed to tell him. She took a deep breath in before her words came tumbling out of her mouth.

"George, I'm not gonna sit here and pretend like I don't like you—you know, in that way—oh, Merlin, I feel like I'm sixteen right now," she sighed. "I don't—why is this so hard?"

"You're doing better than I could."

"I—look, I don't know how you feel about me, but I think I have feelings for you past friendship and past just physical. You don't have to feel the same way—although it would be great if you did—but I just really needed to get that off my chest or else I was going to literally explode."

"You're really a little ball of anxiety sometimes, Willow."

"That's not helping my situation, George."

"Well, what do you want me to say?"

Willow felt her heart sink as her mind began to spiral. This was a terrible decision. George wasn't wrong to call her a ball of anxiety, she didn't even think she was ready for a relationship right now with everything she had going on in her life.

Although Dean's letters had slowed down, she still got one every couple of days, and she knew he wasn't going to go away on his own. There was a part of her that still felt like she wouldn't be able to fully move on with his foot still forcibly in the door.

Also, her dream from last weekend still haunted her, although she could no longer remember all the details, which was scaring her even more. She still didn't know what the men or the running or the kiss meant. And she had no idea if it was pointless to keep worrying about it or not.

To top it all off, George had basically just rejected her. It wasn't like she was expecting him to get down on his knee and propose to her right then, but something other than a joke would have been better. He was just too nice to reject her to her face, he would probably just slowly distance himself from her over time. However, she had probably just accelerated that time by a lot.

"Wills," George's soft voice broke through her thoughts.

She released a breath as she looked up at him, her eyes wide with worry.

"I think my feelings go past physical with you, too," he started. "But I think it's been made clear that we should take things slow. I can tell you have a lot going on in your life right now, and I don't want to be the reason you become more stressed out."

"So, what does that make us?"

"I feel like labeling it isn't a good idea," he said, reaching out to grab her hand. "How about we just say we're two consenting adults who like hanging out and occasionally want to," he cleared his throat, "touch each other."

Willow laughed as she looked over at his soft expression. "I think I can be okay with that."

"I think I can be, too," he smiled. "Maybe it'll turn into something more down the road, but I know I'm happy with you just being in my life the way you are right now."

Willow breathed out a deep sigh of relief since she finally had the answer she'd been seeking. However, George quickly stole her attention back as he cleared her throat.

"So, I just wanted to put it out there," he began. "When I said the bit about touching each other...I just wanted to know what you had in mind when you agreed?"

Willow laughed as she thought over how to respond. "Hm, I suppose when I agreed, I thought that touching each other meant a couple of firm handshakes when we felt it necessary."

She watched as George sunk into his chair before grumbling, "Yes, of course, that's what I meant, too."

Rolling her eyes, Willow leaned over to plant a small kiss on his cheek. This action caused him to perk up as he rushed out, "Ms. Sweetwood, I think that was a little more than a handshake!"

"I want to know what you had in mind when you said the bit about touching."

"Assuming we're on the same page," he smirked, "I was thinking it was going to be a little closer to last weekend."

Willow's face warmed as she maintained eye contact with him.

"I guess that's just something we'll have to explore soon."

"Soon?"

"Who knows," she lightly shrugged, turning back to smile down at her plate.

George reached over to press a small kiss on her temple before he got up to refill his empty plate. They enjoyed the rest of their night just sitting, talking, and sipping on the wine Willow had picked.

She felt content. Willow was willing to take things slow with George for right now since he had made some solid points about having a lot going on in her life currently. He had also admitted to having feelings for her as well, which gave her hope that it may turn into something more eventually.

Having some form of closure gave Willow a sense of relief that she had been long chasing. It was nice to have one part of her life at least semi-figured out for the time being. But there were still worries playing in the back of her head about if there was a background reason for why George hadn't wanted to label anything—she hated to admit that she had had similar conversations with Dean at Hogwarts.

But George was different. He wasn't Dean, and that was a big reason why Willow liked him so much. George was kind, comforting, and not to mention handsome. She felt lucky to have someone like him in her life, no matter the label.

☆☆☆

Once she arrived back home that night, Willow was on a high. Juliet was at work still, so she had no one to project her happiness onto. But it ended up not mattering because once she had walked into the kitchen, she discovered a white envelope on the counter.

Something in Willow snapped as her eyes fell on the small doodle across the front of the letter. She was sick of this. Whether it was the wine in her system or the idea that to move onto George she needed to get rid of Dean, something compelled her to finally put a stop to him.

She ran to her room, Bartholomew on her heels. After throwing open her desk drawer, she grabbed a piece of parchment and her quill. She bent over her desk as she angrily wrote:

Dean—

I'm tired of it. I'm tired of the letters, I'm tired of being reminded, I'm tired of you. I want you to know I haven't opened a single one of your stupid notes because I don't care enough about you anymore.

You gave me so many good memories from Hogwarts—ones that I will cherish for the rest of my life—and I won't let you spoil them by being a dick now. I do not want to hear from you anymore. What happened after the club and what happened at the party is in the past now.

But most importantly, you kissing me in a vulnerable moment is in the past. I am choosing to forgive you for that so that I may move on with my life. Just like I need you to.

Dove seems like a wonderful person—frankly, you don't deserve her since I'm sure you're still dating her while you've been sending me all these letters—but since you're no longer a part of my life, I don't care. I hope you two have a wonderful time before she realizes what an idiot you are.

Don't ever contact me again.

Willow

p.s. I was never yours, you seem to forget that that was always your decision, not mine. You had your chance and you're the one that fucked it up.

She promptly sealed the letter, addressed it, and walked out to place it on the small stack of mail already on the kitchen counter. She didn't know if she would still want to send it in the morning. But even if she was just writing it to get her feelings out, Willow felt better.

☆☆☆


	20. Hot Cocoa and a Water

As light poured into her dimly-lit bedroom, Willow cracked open an eye to find her curtains were left partially open. She let out a long groan as she clamped her eyes shut before she was blinded by the harsh sunlight seeping into the room. After she flipped her body over to face the wall, she grabbed her extra pillow to shield her face further.

The darkness soon overcame her—but the longer she laid awake, the longer her body had to start hurting. A headache and a pit in her stomach were quickly overtaking any tiredness she'd once had in her body.

Switching to her back, she grabbed for her wand—which she normally left on the bedside table—so she could shut the curtains without needing to get up. However, as he hand wandered around every part of the table, her wand was nowhere to be found.

This meant she then had the throw the pillow off her face and walk blindly to the window where she forced the curtains shut. As she turned to walk back to the bed calling her name, Willow stretched her arms over her head and began to rub her temples. The now total darkness of the room was beginning to help her oncoming headache.

A headache that she wasn't even sure why she had. Waking up with all the symptoms she'd noticed was typical for her after a night out drinking, but she only remembered having a couple of glasses of wine at George's last night.

However, that was almost all she could remember from their apartment anyway. They had had the work meeting, she'd talked with Elizabeth, George had offered to cook her dinner, and then the night went partially black.

But there was something in the gnawing at the back of her mind—besides the headache—that told her she was missing a large and important part of her night. Willow had never been much of a drinker, so something must have happened to cause her to consume more than she was used to.

Once she had snuggled back into the warm covers of her bed, she closed her eyes to try and think back on what had happened after everyone but she and George had left. She could barely even remember climbing into bed last night, let alone what the two of them had talked about.

She made a mental note to ask Juliet about the sobering potion they had taken at the club last month. Perhaps it was still a drunk fog on her mind that was keeping the events from dinner at bay, but Willow was determined to find out what happened...after she got a few more hours of sleep.

Just as she was finally feeling herself doze off, a loud crash and a string of curse words jolted her awake once more. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she slowly slid out of bed to go check on—she assumed—Juliet.

After trudging toward her door, she threw it open and was soon blinded by the brightness again. Once her eyes had adjusted, Willow glanced toward the kitchen where she found Juliet bent over on the ground.

As she approached her roommate, Bartholomew greeted her while she asked, "What're you doing?" in a groggy voice.

Juliet turned around, startled by the noise. As she stood up, Willow was able to see a pile of noodles and a broken bowl sitting on the floor next to her feet. "Good morning, beautiful! Or—actually, good afternoon since it's already noon," Juliet greeted before she turned back to the mess. "Long night at the Weasley's place?"

"I think I drank too much last night," Willow grumbled as she climbed into one of their barstools. "What're you doing?"

As she continued to scoop the stray noodles into a small pile, Juliet responded, "Bartholomew knocked my bowl off when I wasn't looking." She shifted to fully sit down while she dragged a towel across the floor. "And what do you mean you drank too much? Did you guys throw a party or something?"

Willow leaned her head on her propped-up arm. "No, just had wine with dinner I think."

"Was the wine that good?"

"Quite shitty actually."

Juliet gave her an odd look as she stood and made her way to the trashcan. "Then why drink so much?"

Willow ignored the question as lowered her head to the counter. With her hot cheek pressed against the cool granite, her eyes instinctively closed. She began trying to rack her brain for a scrap of memory about what they had talked about during dinner.

Now that she was more awake, her brain was starting to slowly clear up. She felt herself get instinctively giddy as the memory of dancing through the living room floated into focus, but then her stomach dropped—out of nerves or excitement, she didn't know—slightly as she finally remembered what George had told her. Her head shot up as Juliet was placing a new pot on the stove.

"Do you want me to make you—why do you look like you've seen a ghost?" Juliet asked as she turned to look at Willow.

She swallowed hard as she moved her gaze to Juliet. "I need your help analyzing a conversation, Jules."

"Ooh! That's what best friends are for."

The girls spent the next hour going over every word of Willow and George's conversation that she could remember. Juliet had cooked them both a bowl of ramen for lunch, so while Willow had picked at her noodles she explained how she thought she felt.

Last night, while she was in the moment, Willow remembered she had felt good about George's words. It had settled a long-running worry in her life—knowing that he had feelings for her past physical as well. But now that she was in the right mindset and Juliet was there to help, she was beginning to second-guess everything he had said.

George had his large positives, but he also had his equally-sized negatives. She liked the way he made her feel—physically and mentally. She liked talking to him because their conversations made her feel like she'd known him forever. And she thought she liked the idea of dating him, and he had made it seem like he did too. So then why weren't they dating?

Willow had been tuning in and out for the past few minutes since Juliet had been ranting about how he was stringing her along, and she didn't deserve to go through that. But Willow didn't have the heart to tell her that she was starting to realize she agreed with everything he had said to her.

As much as she did like George—and liked the idea of dating him—she didn't want to right now. It was a typical excuse that she had told herself for years, however this time it was true. Having a boyfriend required time, attention, and love that she didn't have right now.

She wasn't even dating George and she was already spending too much time worrying about him. Somehow last night had turned into a tipping point for her. It made Willow realize that having George in her life with no label could honestly be a good thing, even if she had to convince herself of it.

She would get the benefits of having a man in her life without needing to be tied down right now. They could hook up and still hang out as friends. "It would work out okay" was what she spent the next few moments repeating to herself.

Maybe this was exactly the type of outlet she needed right now—a distraction from all the other stress happening. She would just have to try and remind herself not to allow it to turn into its own stressor.

Once Juliet finally took a breather from her rant, Willow took the opportunity to voice everything she had just decided on. Of course, Juliet attempted to argue with her about that too, but Willow refused to listen this time.

"I don't need you to agree, I just need you to support me," Willow insisted. "Maybe in the long scheme of things I'll regret this decision, but for now I am okay with my relationship with him. Not everything needs a label."

"But wouldn't your life be easier with one?" Juliet retorted as she stood up to clear her empty bowl.

Willow sighed. It wasn't something she wanted to think about right now, she wanted to just push it off and move on. George seemed pleased, which meant she was too. And if keeping a label away from their relationship was what made him happy, Willow could force herself to live with it.

She finally responded, "A lot of things would make life easy, Juliet. But we can't always get the things we think we need."

It was clear Juliet didn't have a response since her back stayed facing Willow while she washed out the bowl in her hands. Now that she was feeling better, and the headache was subsiding, Willow finally ate a few bites of the now cold noodles that had been sitting in front of her for the past hour.

As she made a face in response to the odd temperature, Juliet turned back to her as she said, "Moving on, for now, Angelina's coming into town next weekend."

"So you've still been talking to her after what happened with your parents?"

"Yes," she deadpanned, moving to sit on one of the couches. "Why would I stop?"

Willow stood up to dump her lunch out before walking over to the other couch. "I dunno. Just checking in I suppose."

Juliet gave her a quizzical look before moving her gaze to her nail bed. "I think she wants to get together with everyone—you, me, Fred, George, Lee—again while she's home for a night. I was thinking of having everyone over here if that's okay with you?" she tentatively asked.

"Of course," Willow agreed. "I love hosting people, it's an opportunity to clean out the bakery freezer."

As Bartholomew hopped onto the couch to join his owner, Juliet smiled. "Good to hear. I sent a letter off this morning to finalize plans, so hopefully, I'll hear back from Angie in the next while and I'll let you know."

Willow's ears perked up at the mention of a letter. The final part of the night finally fell into place as she rushed to stand up. Ignoring Juliet's questions, she sprinted toward the counter where she remembered leaving the letter she'd hate-written to Dean, only to find it empty.

"Where is it?" she gasped, her eyes darting to every part of the room in hopes that it would still be here.

"Where is what?" Juliet confusedly questioned as she joined Willow in the kitchen.

"The stack of mail that was sitting on the counter last night!" she worriedly explained. "What happened to all those letters?"

Juliet's face continued to twist in confusion as she held out a hand to place on Willow's shoulder. "That mail is wherever the addresses on it are by now. It was mostly just letters I'd written to friends and family, why are you so concerned?"

"Because," Willow breathlessly began. "There was a letter I added last night that I don't know if I wanted to send."

"You're going to have to elaborate."

Willow told her everything—well, everything she could remember writing. The smile on Juliet's face only grew the longer she explained. She couldn't fathom why Willow seemed upset the letter had been sent since Juliet had been hoping for the downfall of Dean since Hogwarts.

"I don't understand why you wouldn't want to send that letter, Willie!" Juliet maintained. "Maybe it will finally get through his fat skull to stop trying to 'win you back,' or whatever you prefer to call it."

As she collapsed onto the couch again, Willow let out a soft groan. There was a part of her that knew that what Juliet said was true, but there was a larger part of her that just wished she hadn't handled the situation in the way she did.

Unfortunately, she had told Dean not to contact her again. So, if he chose to heed this warning, there wouldn't even be a way for her to figure out how he felt. But she shouldn't care how he felt, she kept reminding herself.

Even though Juliet was still raving to her about how great of an idea this all was, Willow got up to move back into her room. She ignored Juliet's sassy remarks as she pushed through to the bathroom.

Once she had stripped down, Willow stepped into the hot shower she'd started moments ago. She let the steamy water wash over her as her thoughts wandered back to the two most confusing men she'd ever met in her life.

George and Dean were as different as can be, and yet she was still finding herself in similar situations with both of them. They both had their faults—so did she—but they also had a lot of positives, but in different ways. Nothing Dean had ever done to her made her feel the way George did. And even though she knew it wasn't fair to compare them, that's all Willow did for the rest of her shower.

After she had washed her body down and the lasting effects of last night's wine were finally wearing off, she hopped out of the shower to wrap herself in a large towel. She took a moment to pause in the mirror once she had wiped off the condensation. She stared at her clean face for a moment too long before she let out a huff and wandered back into her bedroom.

As she hoisted the towel higher on her torso, Willow began to dig through her dresser. But before she could settle on a sweatshirt big enough to engulf her body, a light knock sounded from her door. She turned toward it as Juliet walked in, a white envelope in her outstretched arm.

"Guess we spoke too soon," she sighed. "Someone didn't get the memo."

Willow felt a strange twinge in her heart as she reached for the letter. After she had tucked her towel into itself to free her hands, she wordlessly sat down on her bed to look over the envelope.

Juliet settled onto the floor to wait for Willow to talk, but her roommate was too busy wondering why there was no doodle on the outside of this letter to say anything. The handwriting didn't even look like Dean's; it was still the usual white envelope, just none of his trademark add-ons.

She finally flipped it over to tear into the seal. After she pulled out the crisp parchment, Willow's eyes darted to the bottom before she read anything else.

"Uh—it's from Dove!" she revealed, her eyes wide as they looked to an equally-surprised Juliet.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Read it!"

After Willow lightly cleared her throat, her eyes found the top of the parchment. Then she read aloud:

"Dear Willow,

This is Dove—Dean's girlfriend."

"What! His girlfriend?" Juliet interrupted.

Willow shushed her before she continued:

"This is Dove—Dean's girlfriend. We met at Angelina's birthday party, so I hope you remember me. I was hoping that you would be willing to meet with me sometime soon. I think we have a lot to talk about.

"And then it's signed Dove Campbell," she finished, holding the letter toward Juliet's splayed hand.

Once she had read over the note, Juliet looked up to Willow. "Well, you have to go," she stated.

"Um, I don't know if that's actually necessary, Jules," she retorted. "What if all she wants to do is—I don't know—beat me up for sending a letter to her boyfriend."

"Then she's also going to be beating up Dean since he started it."

Willow stood up to make her way back to her dresser as she mulled over her options. As she finally pulled a sweatshirt over her head, she reached for a pair of pajama bottoms to match.

"Ah—no! You better not put those on," Juliet said, standing up. "Put on some jeans, or something more presentable. You have a meeting to attend later."

"Juliet, I really don't see the benefit in my going to meet Dove," she whined, pulling on the pajama bottoms anyway. "I am not in the mood to get yelled at for something that's not my fault. Or, on the other hand, have to explain to a girl I don't know that her boyfriend is basically cheating on her."

"You don't have to tell her details," Juliet insisted. "You should just go meet with her to see what she has to say. Worst case scenario, you just get up to leave and you never speak to her again."

Willow rubbed her hands down her face as she thought about what to do. On one hand, as she'd told Juliet, she didn't want to have a conversation with Dove if she was going to be the bad guy. The note had been extremely cryptic, so there was no real way to know what she wanted unless she met up with Dove.

Unfortunately, curiosity seemed to be winning the debate in her mind. She sighed before she strolled over to her desk to write a short response to Dove in which she agreed to meet. Right before she sealed the letter, she decided to include that today would work best for her—which was true, but also a way to get the conversation over with quickly.

Juliet agreed to walk to the post office with her down the street since she still had a few hours before work started. So Willow changed into a pair of jeans before the two girls made the short walk. Then they spent the next hour strolling around Diagon Alley to explore all the different stores as a way to pass the time until Dove hopefully responded.

It was after 2:00 when they finally arrived back at the bakery. Apparently, Dove also didn't have much to do today—or she was just as nervous as Willow—since there was a letter waiting in their mail slot when they walked up the stairs. She read it quickly before explaining to Juliet that Dove had asked her to meet at some Muggle coffee shop in central London at 3:00.

Thankfully, Dove had been sweet enough to include the address of the place, which gave Willow a glimmer of hope that maybe she wouldn't be upset with her. And after a few more internal debates and a lot of coaxing from Juliet, Willow started on the long trek toward their meeting place.

As she walked, Willow took the time to look around at the people of London. Even though she'd grown up in a partially-Muggle household, there was always something about being a witch amongst large groups of Muggles that she'd never gotten used to. It was her very own secret that no one would know without her telling them.

However, the longer she walked, the more she realized how many couples seemed to be out exploring the city on the clear Sunday afternoon. Even though she'd spent the morning convincing herself she was happy the way things were, she couldn't deny the small jealous feeling pooling in her stomach. But one thing was for sure, she couldn't fully be with George—or anyone—while Dean was still holding her back.

With that reassuring thought, the small brick building she'd been walking to finally came into view. It was a small, almost hidden place, settled into a long stretch of unidentified shops. As she walked closer, Willow noticed Dove sitting at a table next to the window. Her small afro was pulled back with a colorful scarf headband, the tails of which she was twirling through her fingers.

The two girls seemed to notice each other at the same time since Willow watched as Dove awkwardly waved to her through the window once she was closer to the entrance. Willow meekly waved back before she made her way into the small shop. She quickly sped toward the table, shooting Dove a small smile as she sat down.

They both let out a soft greeting as Willow hung her tote bag on the back of her chair. Neither girl wanted to look at the other, both of them, instead, choosing a spot on the wall to focus their attention. Willow had already decided she didn't want to be the first to talk—although it seemed like she'd have to if Dove didn't break the tension soon.

"So, any reason why you wanted to meet here?" Willow finally asked.

Dove seemed shocked by the noise as she quickly turned her head toward Willow before stuttering out, "U-uh, my mum and dad took me here a lot growing up."

"Are they," Willow lowered her voice, "Muggles?"

"Yes," she answered. A ghost of a smile painted her face as she thought about something. "That's how Angelina and I know each other—childhood friends."

Before Willow could ask any further questions, a bored-sounding waiter appeared to take their order. She quickly glanced over the small menu card on the table as she heard Dove only order water. That meant she would need to order a real drink so they wouldn't look rude, a task she didn't expect to fall on her.

She could still feel the waiter's eyes bore into her skull as she finally ordered a small hot cocoa. The waiter repeated their order, which they both responded to with a nod, and was gone as quickly as he had appeared.

Then another awkward silence settled over them as Willow drummed her fingers on the dark wood table. Dove still wouldn't make eye contact with her since she was too busy staring at the fabric of her scarf, and she was beginning to regret ordering a real drink since it meant she was stuck here until she drank it—or at least paid for it. Perhaps that was a part of Dove's punishment for her. Force Willow to spend money on an overpriced drink while all she did was sip on an ice water.

Willow was about to question her about it when the waiter reappeared out of nowhere. He softly placed the two drinks in front of them along with the check, and, without another word, disappeared again. She looped her finger through the handle of the dark green mug to pull it closer to her.

As she softly blew on the steaming liquid within, Willow watched as Dove chugged half the glass of water. "Is the water here really good or something?" she joked, bringing the mug to her lips.

"Just not in the mood for anything else," Dove softly mumbled, setting the water down.

After taking a few more sips—it was honestly a really good cup of hot cocoa—Willow set her mug back on the small plate. She pursed her lips as she asked, "And why is that?"

Dove's chest quickly rose and fell before she sped the words "Why are you sending letters to my boyfriend?" out of her mouth.

"Um—"

Holding a small hand up to stop her, Willow clamped her mouth shut as Dove continued, "But, also, why is he sending so many letters to you?"

Willow placed her hands around the warm surface of her mug to make it impossible for her to pick at her nails. This was a situation she wasn't fully sure how to handle, and the last thing she wanted to do was appear nervous.

"Do you want my honest answer?" she finally asked.

Dove's large eyes found hers as she softly said, "Obviously."

"I don't know why he's sending me letters because I've never opened a single one of them."

"You haven't?" Dove straightened in her seat as she reached for her water glass to take a small sip.

Willow sighed. "No, of course not. I'm not really interested in what a taken man has to say to me. Especially after—"

She cut her sentence off since she had silently decided not to tell Dove about the kiss. Willow was unaware of how their relationship lined up with the night at the club and the time at her shop, so she kept her mouth shut. If that made her a bad person, that was just something she'd learn to live with.

"After what?"

Willow paused, unsure of how to respond. She watched as Dove's knuckles tightened around the base of the clear glass in front of her. "Did you read the letter I sent to him?"

Dove released the glass as she settled back into the wooden chair. Her mouth twisted in thought before she said, "I really thought about it."

"Okay," Willow started. "But did you?"

"No," Dove sighed as she wrapped the tail of her scarf around her finger. "No, I didn't. I didn't want to know what you were saying back to him, although, this is only the first letter of yours I'd seen."

"Maybe because that was the first one I'd ever sent back to him," she explained. "I told you—I never opened any of his letters."

"Why am I inclined to not believe you?"

Anger and annoyance were rising in Willow's body. She wasn't going to stay here if this was all the conversation would be. "Why are you inclined to stay with a man who's sending other girls love letters?" she shot back without thinking.

"Love letters?" Dove blurted out. "I thought you said you'd never opened them?"

"I don't have to open them to know that they're some version of love letters."

"Seems very bold of you to assume that," Dove challenged.

Willow rolled her eyes. "Well, I guess I'm basing that on the doodles of hearts and me hugging him that accompanied every single one," she confessed. "Not to mention I got a new one almost every day."

If it was possible, Dove had now sunk deeper into her chair, a look of defeat painted across her face. Willow studied her glossy eyes as she wondered whether or not she'd been too harsh to her. But she had to put herself in Dove's position to realize that she would want to know as much information as the other girl would provide.

Willow cautiously took another sip of her drink as Dove finally mumbled out a meek, "What do you have that I don't?"

She set her mug down on the table as she tried to look anywhere but Dove. Willow stared further into the last few wisps of whipped cream still floating on the surface of her hot cocoa, not knowing how to respond to the question. She was unsure if she was even supposed to hear it. She'd sort of been in Dove's place before—even with the same guy—so there had to be something she could say.

After taking another too-long sip of her drink, Willow finally said, "I think he's the one that's lacking."

Dove looked up at her, tears still pooling along the edges of her eyes. "Sometimes I don't think I'm ever going to be enough for anyone."

This was not how Willow had envisioned this meeting. Somehow it turned into her comforting her ex's—if that was what she could call him—new girlfriend. Which was not a situation Willow wanted to be in. She mulled over her next words for a moment before finally settling on something.

"Here's the thing. We all go through mindsets like that. It's not abnormal to question your worth because of a guy, literally, everyone that dates men does that."

Dove lightly sniffled as she used her hand to wipe away a stray tear.

"But you didn't ask me here so I could comfort you. You asked me here to get answers about your cheating boyfriend—which I have answered—so unless you have anything more to say about him, I am leaving," she stated, reaching to grab her bag off the back of the chair.

As she placed it in her lap, Dove said, "I have one more question."

"Go ahead." Willow began to riffle through her bag for a few Muggle coins.

"Did you ever love Dean?"

Willow froze her hand. She debated for a moment on how to answer before settling on the simple truth.

"Yes."

"How'd you stop?"

"I think that's something you have to figure out for yourself."

Willow stood up as she dropped a couple of coins onto the receipt that still sat on the table. As she hoisted her bag onto her shoulder, she gave the crying girl one last look over and said, "Dove, you are a very pretty woman and you seem nice enough—but I can't help you any more than I already have. I'm trying to move on with my life, and it seems like you should do the same."

She turned toward the exit but paused as she heard Dove choke out a soft sob. Willow reached her arm back into the depths of her bag, pulling out a small packet of tissues. After placing it on the table, she turned on her heel and strode out the door.

The walk back home was a long one, even longer than the walk there since Willow had decided to take her time. So by the time she'd reached the Leaky Cauldron, it was dark outside. After stopping to say a quick hello and an "I'll tell you later" to Juliet and adamantly reassuring Hannah Abbott that she was okay, Willow breezed through the brick wall and toward her bakery.

Once she had made it onto her top step, she paused to peer inside the Weasley's shop just like always. It was later in the afternoon, so the shop wasn't as busy around this time. Once she was quickly able to spot him, she watched as George let one of the small pets they sold climb up his arm in front of a small family. Each of their faces lit up as he coaxed the furry animal off his shoulder and into the palm of the youngest sibling.

She finally tore her gaze away long enough to notice that she felt lighter. The pieces of her life were falling into unexpected places just as she'd always dreamt they would. There would be no more worrying about Dean, so she could now think about George guilt-free.

Willow looked forward to what the rest of her future held. In family, business, friendship, and love, it was all a mystery of what would happen next. And as she finally entered her bakery one thing was clear, the unpredictability excited her.

☆☆☆


	21. Game of Chance

Flour clouded around her as Willow plopped the risen dough onto the lightly-dusted counter. As she began to work the dough into a flatter and rounder shape, she watched as Angelina was tossing spare tomatoes into the mouth of Juliet.

Angelina had gotten into London late last night; Willow only knew this because at around two in the morning she was woken up by the creaks from the bedframe in Juliet's room. She had been forced to cast the silencing charm around her room to be able to get even a few hours of sleep.

However, she would never tell them what she'd heard. Willow was perfectly content to let them live in blissful unawareness. As she began to spread the tomato sauce onto her freshly-formed pizza, Juliet started laughing as a tomato hit her in the nose.

"You know, Angie," Willow started. "You're not going to have any leftovers to go in the salad if they all go into Jules's mouth."

"Yeah, babe," Juliet teased from the barstool she sat on. "You need to focus on your salad."

Angelina rolled her eyes at the comments before throwing one last tomato directly at Juliet's head. But—much to her dismay—Juliet was still able to catch it in her mouth. "What kind of pizza are you making, Willie?" she asked, swallowing the cherry tomato and watching as Willow began to shred a block of cheese.

"I, uh, I was just planning on making a pepperoni one, I think," Willow replied, struggling to shred the last few inches of cheese on the grater. "George and Lee—and probably Fred—seem to be pretty picky eaters so I'm keeping it basic."

"Oh, well, do you have a plan to make a vegetarian option?" Juliet casually asked as she looked between the labels on the bottles of rum in front of her.

Willow glanced up before responding, "Since when do you care about vegetarian options?"

"Oh, Angie's actually a vegetarian now," she looked to Angelina, who was watching her in amusement. "And, I suppose, I'm also trying it out."

"Ah, I wasn't aware of this," Willow stated as she began to sprinkle the cheese onto her pizza.

"It's a part of the training we make our athletes do, so I wanted to try it out and see if a diet can truly help you out on the Quidditch pitch," Angelina explained.

"And what's your consensus?"

Angelina let out a small laugh. "Ask me that once I manage to go a full day without meat," she admitted. "I asked Julie to try it with me for motivation."

The three girls laughed as Willow agreed to make a plain cheese pizza too. As she moved to grab another block of mozzarella from the freezer, Angelina complained, "Are you sure there's nothing else in that fridge that could go in a salad? For a chef, Willow, you've got quite the empty kitchen."

"I'm not a chef, Angie, I am a baker," she protested, turning back to the cutting board with the new block of cheese. "And I told you—if you want more options you're more than welcome to go to the store yourself."

"And I told you I didn't want to," Angelina retorted.

"Hm...then stop complaining."

"Oh, Willow," Angelina laughed. "You have not changed."

Willow glanced up from the cheese grater long enough to ask, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Angelina held a hand up in defense as she moved to sit on the barstool next to Juliet. "It wasn't supposed to be an insult, I swear," she quickly explained. "All I meant is that you sometimes still remind me of how you acted in Hogwarts."

Juliet laughed as she playfully nudged Angelina. "You can ignore her, babe. She's just nervous that George is coming over tonight," she explained, raising her eyebrows at a suddenly very warm Willow.

"Nervous about Georgie?" Angelina teased as she leaned forward on her hand. "Have there been new developments that I wasn't informed about?"

"The only development is that they both like each other, but they won't label it," Juliet explained before Willow could.

"Why's that?" Angelina asked, turning to face Juliet.

Willow rolled her eyes in response. "I am not having this conversation again. Both of us are happy and that's all that matters," she huffed, angrily kneading the second pizza dough into the counter. "It's not like I see a label on you two's relationship anyway."

"Well. That's different," Juliet insisted as she placed a hand on Angelina's arm. "We—"

"Is it really?" Willow interjected. "Now, can we please just talk about something else?"

The other girls seemed to sense her tenseness since they went back to whatever would keep them busy. Juliet continued to inspect the label on the Muggle rum she held while Angelina made her way into Juliet's room seemingly in search of something.

Willow wasn't sure why she had been so quick to change the subject when George was brought up, but she just knew she wasn't in the mood for any more snarky comments about Juliet's opinions on everything. As far as she knew, she was pleased with the decision she'd made—so that's what she was going to keep acting like.

Angelina quietly reemerged as Willow was sprinkling the last of the cheese on top of the two large pizzas. In her hands was a grey duffle bag, which she placed in the barstool she had previously occupied.

"So," she began as she started pulling out various colorful cardboard boxes. "Since this is my get-together, I get to decide what we're doing. And I decided to have a good old-fashioned board game night."

Juliet placed the bottle in her hand on the counter as she began to look over the various games that Angelina was setting out. She picked up a deck of cards to inspect them as Angelina started listing off everything she'd brought.

"We could play Scrabble, cards, Mouse Trap—"

"Ugh, I hate that game, the pieces never fit together properly," Juliet interrupted as she placed the deck of cards back in the stack. Angelina shot her a glare before clearing her throat.

"As I was saying—I also brought Trouble, Exploding Snap, and Jenga," she finished, placing the last box on the counter. "It's mostly Muggle games, which I'm sure the others will have a comment about, but it's what I could find at my dad's place."

"Well, I'm ready to play anything," Willow replied as she slid the pizzas onto the warm stone in the oven. She stood up to dust off her hands on the apron she was wearing. "But I guess we won't be playing Mouse Trap."

Angelina settled back in her barstool as Juliet got up to walk over to the girls' small liquor cabinet in the corner. "We can just wait to see what the other people prefer once they arrive," she sighed. "Elizabeth is coming too if I didn't mention that already."

Willow untied the apron behind her back before she moved to hang it on the small hook just outside the kitchen. "I had assumed that much," she responded.

"I hope you lot are also ready to get smashed," Juliet announced as she made her way back to the kitchen island, a clear bottle of liquor in one hand. "I plan on making my spin on a Muggle drink called a rum and Cola—plus, I bought a bottle of tequila if we're feeling mad."

From across the counter, Willow heard Angelina groan at the sight of the tequila bottle in Juliet's hand. "Oh, Godric, Julie," she whined as Juliet moved to stand in between her legs. "You're going to get us shit-faced."

"That's the plan." She grinned before leaning in to place a small kiss on Angelina's mouth. "But, if you're feeling like a bit of a wuss, I snagged a few bottles of the Cauldron's sobering potion," she explained before moving to place three clear vials of shimmering purple liquid on the kitchen counter. "A little can go a long way."

Willow laughed before she leaned down to check on the pizzas still in the oven. She felt Juliet brush behind on her way to the cabinets where they kept their glasses. "While those are cooking," Juliet began. "I'm gonna start on the drinks—what time are the other guests supposed to arrive?"

Once she had straightened herself up, Willow glanced at the watch around her wrist. "Uh, any moment now actually," she announced. "I think that I'm gonna go ahead and head downstairs so I can let them in—plus, I still have to get some stuff out of the freezer."

"Oh, right," Angelina teased. "It's totally not so you can be the first person to greet George." Juliet laughed as Willow rolled her eyes on her way out. She stopped to flip them both off before she made her way down the back stairs and into the bakery's kitchen.

Once she had swung open the large storage freezer, she chewed on her thumbnail as she looked over the sparse options. After she stood for a few moments debating between a box of half-eaten brownies that Everly had left there a few days prior and the cupcakes she'd worked to perfect earlier in the day, Willow settled on bringing both upstairs. She grabbed each box from the freezer and placed them on the counter before she began to wait for her friends to arrive.

She'd never admit it to Angelina and Juliet, but a big reason she had wanted to come downstairs was exactly what they had accused her of. It wasn't that she wanted to be the first person to greet him, but more that she hadn't seen—or even spoken to—George since the night at their apartment almost a week ago.

Willow hadn't stopped thinking about him, and she was hoping that things wouldn't be awkward between them now that they had established their relationship. George had insisted he still had feelings for her, so if he acted like he didn't, Willow knew she'd be crushed.

Just as her thoughts were beginning to spiral like normal, loud pounding on the bakery's front door snapped her attention away. She quickly peered out of the small window on the door connecting the kitchen and the main area of the bakery to see Elizabeth shaking her finger at Lee. Willow could hear a muffled lecture about almost breaking the glass as she pushed through the door.

Everyone's attention was immediately grabbed at her appearance out of the kitchen, so she gave them a small wave on her way to unlock the door. Once she had made the short walk, Willow threw open the door as all four guests bustled in.

Amidst a chorus of greetings, Elizabeth pulled her into a short hug and softly said, "Thank you for inviting us." Willow quickly returned the unexpected hug, and as the girls pulled away, Fred appeared behind his girlfriend to pat the top of Willow's head as he moved inside.

Lee began to question Willow as to why he hadn't been informed that he could bring a date since he was now going to be alone the entire night while everyone else hung out in pairs. But Willow was only half-listening as George finally made his way into the shop.

He was dressed similar to the rest of the group, a pair of worn khakis, a light green button-down, and his favorite Chucks. Willow instinctively pulled at the hem of her pajama shorts, suddenly feeling wildly underdressed in her own home. But George didn't give her a chance to think too much of it before he had pulled her into what was quickly becoming her favorite place—his arms.

He wrapped her in a tight hug as the rest of the party was already making their way into the kitchen. She snaked her arms around his toned middle as she breathed in the familiar citrus and wood body wash. As he planted a soft kiss on the top of her head, he murmured, "Nice to see you again, beautiful."

They broke apart as Elizabeth started to talk about how much she liked the delicate flower wallpaper that lined the wall behind the cashier's counter. Willow tried to push the compliments away—especially since that wall was only half-covered with the new wallpaper—by ushering them all through the kitchen and up the stairs.

After a small reunion with Angelina, Juliet shoved a cocktail into each of their hands before ushering them all to the dining table. The game of Scrabble was set up already in the center of the table. And, after Lee attempted to argue that he shouldn't have to play because they didn't tell him to bring a date, the group finally allowed him to get his way by playing as teams and letting Lee overlook.

The group fell into a casual game of Scrabble. The title of the judge had quickly gone to Lee's head since he had insisted Willow grab a dictionary from her room so that he could double-check every word each team played. This also resulted in an argument at the end of almost every turn.

George had quickly shown a side of him that Willow had never seen before—an extremely competitive George. He had named himself the captain of their two-person team, which Willow was happy to allow. She had never been very good at Scrabble, and, even though it was George's first time, he was making a worthy leader.

Across from her and George sat Elizabeth and Fred; Elizabeth was proving to be an important asset on Fred's team since each time it was their go, he attempted to spell out a new word for "breast" that he insisted would be in the dictionary if Lee would only search harder. As the two would argue, Elizabeth would rearrange the tiles Fred had played to spell a real word.

However, despite anyone else's efforts, Angelina and Juliet were rapidly surging ahead in terms of points. They had been playing words that no one had ever heard of, so, after a few more rounds, everyone collectively agreed to stop playing out of frustration and defeat.

Luckily the timer for the pizzas went off soon after everyone had finished helping to clean up the game. As much as Willow wanted to let them cool, Lee and Fred were already searching through the kitchen drawers for a pizza cutter. And as soon as she finally gave in to show them where it was, the pizzas were quickly cut and served to each person. Juliet had also taken the time to refresh everyone's cocktail even if they tried to say no, so everyone in the room was slowly starting to become looser and everything they said was hilarious.

Once both pizzas and a part of the salad were gone, the group sat around casually talking about their upcoming weeks. George had been acting his normal self around her all night, so any worries she'd held had melted away. And now Elizabeth and Willow were deep in conversation about how she and Fred had met. It was a rather simple story—Elizabeth worked as a writer for The Quibbler, and she was asked to do a story on popular businesses in Diagon Alley—but the way her eyes lit up as she talked about Fred made Willow hang on her every word.

Meanwhile, George and Fred had begun to snoop through the rest of the games that Angelina had brought with her. After they had rifled through all the Muggle-made options, the boys garnered everyone's attention with a simple clear of Fred's throat.

"So who's down for a game from our youth?" he questioned, holding up a stack of unusual-looking cards in his hand.

"Oh, no," Angelina cautioned. "Are you suggesting we play Exploding Shots?"

"Exploding Shots?" Elizabeth inquired from next to Willow. "What is that?"

Fred and George exchanged a mischievous smile before they both began to walk toward the kitchen table. Lee quickly stood up to follow them, a large smile plastered across his face. Then Angelina rolled her eyes before grabbing Juliet's hand to drag her toward the table.

Willow and Elizabeth were left on the couch in confusion, but they decided to follow suit by moving toward the table as well. As they walked, Fred began to explain, "So, I am assuming you lot have all played a round or two of Exploding Snap?"

Once the question was met with head nods, George continued, "Well, this version is basically the same. Except you have to take a shot for every card that explodes during your turn."

"The cards shuffle faster and faster the longer we play, so it's very easy to rack up the number of shots you have to take if you're too slow," Fred finished.

Juliet scratched her head. "So, instead of everyone trying to tap the cards at the same time, each of us will get our own round to try and make matches?"

"Exactly," Angelina replied as Fred placed the deck of dark blue cards in the center of their table before taking the seat between Elizabeth and George. "The cards shuffle on their own in front of you, and you're the only one that can tap matching pairs as they come up. But if you're too slow—and the cards explode—that's one shot you have to take."

"Okay, then let me grab," she quickly glanced around the table, "seven shot glasses from the cupboard."

As she stood up to move into the kitchen, Willow asked, "Jules, do we even own that many?"

Juliet answered her question by walking back over to the table with only four glasses and the bottle of tequila as she shook her head. Before she could set them down, Lee had grabbed for one as he mumbled something about not wanting to share. "I think the rest of them are dirty, so I suppose we're sharing," Juliet announced as she passed a shot glass to each twin. "Everyone at the table has already swapped saliva with the person sitting next to them, so we'll all survive."

"I'll have you know that Fred and I have never kissed," George joked as he slung an arm around his annoyed brother. Fred shoved his brother's arm off as he rolled his eyes. Then he pulled his wand out of his back pocket, signaling for everyone else to do the same.

Once they all had their wands on the table in front of them, Fred tapped the deck of the cards in the middle of the table. It began to shuffle itself before floating to land in front of a clearly nervous Elizabeth. Fred leaned in to kiss her temple as she picked up her wand.

"All I have to do is tap the cards that come up as matches, right?" she questioned as the deck continued to shuffle.

George nodded as he placed an arm along the back of Willow's chair. "Two cards will appear at a time on the table, so just tap one of them if they're a matching pair."

Elizabeth nodded as the cards slowly began to reveal themselves. It took a few times before two of them matched, and she quickly tapped the right one to stay in the game. Willow took the time to point her wand toward the radio in the corner so that they could have background noise while they played.

Just as she was turning back to see that the cards had suddenly picked up speed, both cards currently in front of Elizabeth exploded in a small puff of smoke. The group laughed as she recoiled her hand from the flame. Then Fred grabbed the bottle of liquor to pour her a shot, which she gracefully took as the cards moved to Lee.

The game continued like this, each person having an individual turn until the cards decided to move on their own. Most everyone was only forced to take one or two shots during their turns, but the deck had now been sitting in front of George for a long time, and his shot count was already up to four.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, gripping his wand and keeping his eyes trained on the deck in front of him. "I think this is the longest turn I've ever had."

"And—and yet you're still doing terribly," jabbed a tipsy Lee from across the table.

In the millisecond that George took to shoot his middle finger at Lee, another pair of cards exploded in front of him. He let out a low groan as he leaned back into his chair, running his hands through his already disheveled hair. That brought his shot count up to five, but, thankfully, as he slowly sat up, the cards moved back to the center of the table where they began to reshuffle.

"Merlin!" Lee exclaimed. "This is—this is just like that time after, what was that class even called...Fred, do you remember what I'm talking about?"

Fred let out a drunken giggle as he moved his head out of Elizabeth's lap. "I think it was...H-Hair of Magical Crea—Creatures?" he hiccuped.

"Hair of Magical Creatures?" Juliet howled. "What's th-that? The class where you learn how to tend to a troll's highlights?"

Fred scoffed as he brushed off her comment. He closed his eyes for a moment before finally saying, "Care of Magical Creatures! That's the one..."

"You're ri-ight!" Angelina agreed, her eyes were half-shut and Juliet was busy rubbing her hand up and down Angelina's arm. "That was that time in our third year when Georgie had to take nine shots in one round!" The group laughed at the idea of poor 14-year-old George downing nine shots in the middle of the day—even though the majority of the group had no idea what Angelina was talking about. The air in the room was relaxed, and the more everyone drank, the less they began to care.

"Juliet, pass the man that bottle," Fred ordered as he placed his head back in his girlfriend's lap. "H-He's gotta down five whole shots of it." George gave the table a few deathly glares as they all laughed at his misfortune. If he wasn't already drunk, this was surely going to push him over the edge.

Willow softly smiled as she slid the shot glass from where it still sat after her last two-shot round. She had already consumed two rum and Colas during dinner and taken four shots across her three turns, so she felt like she was moving in slow motion. George accepted the glass, the tips of his fingers grazing the back of her hand. Then he slid the bottle toward her and said, "Do me the honors, would you?"

She laughed before taking the bottle to pour him the first shot. George pursed his lips before finally reaching out to quickly down the shot in one fluid movement. His face twisted as the hard liquor hit the back of his throat, but he was met with cheers from the rest of the table.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Fred lean up to whisper something in Elizabeth's ear before she tapped the card deck to make it stop shuffling for the time being. She stopped herself from asking what had been said before she poured the next shot for a waiting George.

He finished off the next three shots with ease, but once Willow went to pour the fifth one, George placed a hand on hers to stop the motion. He looked around the table before he said, "Am I allowed to pawn my final shot onto Willow?"

"Onto me?" she gasped. "W-Who the fuck says I want to take the shot! It's your round."

"I'm just trying to make the game a little more interesting," George explained, batting his eyes toward her. They had a darker haze over them than before he'd started taking his shots, so Willow had a feeling that he was beginning to feel the effects of the tequila.

Before she was given a chance to respond, a very drunk Juliet interrupted her train of thought. "Uh—I think Angie and me are ready to call it a night," she announced, standing up with a drunken Angelina clinging to her arm. "Yo-ou guys can see yourselves out, right?"

No one was given a chance to respond before the giggling duo had beelined for Juliet's empty bedroom, leaving an angry cat meowing at the now-closed door. The group sat in shock for a moment before Lee shouted, "Oi! Fredric, shut your trap and let your mummy enjoy herself!"

Fred looked taken aback as he stuttered out, "I-I'm not even talking, m-mate!"

Lee rolled his eyes. "I meant the cat, you gi-it!"

As the group chuckled, Willow stood up to grab the brownies and cupcakes for the remaining guests. Everyone took a treat as she sat back into her seat next to George, who placed a hand on her bare thigh as she settled in. They all ate in silence for a few moments—Willow's mind focused more on how hot his touch was than anything else.

After Lee and Fred had inhaled four brownies each, Elizabeth announced that it was time for them to leave before they finished off the entire bakery. George remained seated, his hand still on her thigh, as the other three began to hazily gather their things.

"Are—Are you joining us, George?" Elizabeth slightly slurred as she leaned into a swaying Fred by the back door. Lee had already sprinted down the stairs and was probably back in their apartment by now, so it was just the two of them waiting. George looked over at Willow, who failed at trying to hide her smile, before he squeezed her thigh lightly.

"I—uh, I think Willow still owes me a shot," he lightly tapped the tequila bottle, "so I'm gonna stay a little bit longer."

Fred and Elizabeth laughed before they both bid the other duo a goodbye and disappeared down the stairs. Once they were gone, George shifted the hand on Willow's thigh to the back of her chair as they turned toward each other.

"I don't think I'm the one who still has to take a shot, mister," she teased, waggling her finger in George's face as she instinctively leaned closer to him.

"Hm..." he began, grabbing the bottle of tequila. "I suppose you're right about that one. Maybe we both take one? Make it even."

Willow laughed. The fog on her mind was making any decision that involved George look like the right one to make, so she grabbed the bottle of tequila off the table. She felt George's eyes trained on her as she carefully poured a shot into the glass in front of them. Once she had slid it toward him, she leaned over to grab the shot glass Juliet and Angelina had been using, but George grabbed her arm.

She shot him a confused look as he held up a finger, signaling that he wanted her to wait. Then he swiftly poured the final shot down his throat—only slightly reacting to the burning at the back of his neck.

"My turn?" Willow questioned once he had placed the glass back down. George merely grinned at her as he grabbed the tequila. However, instead of reaching for the shot glass he'd just used, George's hand found Willow's chin.

"Lean your head back," he softly whispered as his hand moved Willow's head back. Once she had complied, George shifted his hand to around her throat, the ring on his hand sending a cold shiver through her body.

He lightly squeezed her neck so she'd open her mouth, and then, without warning, poured a shot's worth of tequila into Willow's ready mouth. She coughed a few times—George's hand still wrapped around her neck—as the hard liquor passed through her throat.

Once the feeling subsided, she lowered her head to see his eyes already on her lips. She gave him a tipsy smile as the latest shot worked its way through her. And before she had the time to think about it, George was guiding her closer to him.

He tilted his head down to deeply kiss her as Willow eagerly kissed him back. She placed a light hand on his chest as they continued to make out, George still holding onto her throat.

Willow's hand began to gingerly drift south, landing on his lap, where she began to massage his semi-hard on through his pants. As he moaned, George's other hand snaked around her waist, pulling the chair Willow sat in as close to him as possible.

"Do you want to move this to your room?" he rushed out in between kisses.

Willow laughed as she paused her hand's movements. She pulled back long enough to look over his hazy eyes and swollen lips before she quickly nodded. Biting her lip in excitement, she grabbed George's hand to stand up.

But he let go to reach for something on the kitchen counter before following her into the bedroom. After shutting the door behind him, Willow quickly cast a silencing charm on the room as George slipped off the shoes he still wore.

Once the room was properly charmed, Willow wasted no time in pulling George back into her. Their lips danced in time to the music that was slowly filling the room, but George quickly pulled away as he reached into his pocket.

"H-Have I done something wrong?" she quietly questioned, still wrapped in his arms.

George chuckled as he shook his head. "Quite the opposite, Willow," he insisted. "I just want everything to go perfectly tonight—so I nabbed a vial of the sobering stuff from the kitchen. I-I want us both to take part of it before we go any further."

Willow softly nodded her head as she accepted the small vial. They each took turns taking large swigs from it, and soon the room felt clearer. And now that the drunken haze was partially lifted from her mind, Willow was still sure she knew what she wanted.

"So," George finally asked as he ran a nervous hand through his hair, taking a step back from her. "How do you feel now?"

"Sober-ish," Willow joked, causing George to smile. "I think I'm ready for bed!"

He let out a defeated sigh. "Right, yeah, okay. I'll leave you here then," George agreed, already moving to where his shoes sat.

Willow laughed as she watched his head hang while he walked. "Well—I was still hoping you'd want to spend the night?" she wondered aloud.

"Really?" he asked, picking his somber head up and beginning to inch back toward her. "And why would you want that...?"

"I just thought...Maybe we could get to know each other even better," she mumbled, now inches away from him.

"And how would we do that?" George teased as his large hand found the small of her back. Without warning, Willow wrapped her hands around the back of his neck to pull his lips onto hers. He let out a small groan as their bodies pressed together.

Then George shifted the hand on her back down to her ass, giving it a playful squeeze, before grabbing at the backs of her thighs to lift her. Willow quickly wrapped her legs around his waist as George began to slowly walk toward the bed.

He placed her back on the mattress before breaking their kiss long enough to start unbuttoning his shirt. Willow wiped a finger across her mouth as she shifted to sit up on her elbows.

Her eyes trailed across his wide chest for the first time. George's torso was extremely toned, with small freckles and scars decorating every inch of it. She thought she could make out a small tattoo on the side of his ribcage in the darkness, but otherwise, his body was free of ink. Willow felt her legs instinctively cross as she watched his long fingers work each button undone.

George let out a dark chuckle as he finally threw the shirt across the room. "Enjoying the view, beautiful?" he teased. She averted her gaze at the noise, instead choosing to look down at her feet. "Don't be embarrassed, I like my view as well."

Willow's face grew warm as he finally leaned in to deeply kiss her. His body was now hovering over hers as she leaned into the bed. One hand gripped her upper thigh while the other began to massage between her legs, causing a moan to escape from Willow.

"You know—I really love how wet you always are for me, darling," George murmured against her lips. "You're always so ready and willing."

A surge of confidence and half-drunkenness hit Willow as she boldly stated, "Why don't you do something about it then?"

He chuckled as he bit down on her bottom lip at the same time he pressed his thumb onto her clit. A large moan sounded from her as he playfully said, "Your wish is my command."

His hand moved upward to slip off the small shorts she was wearing—the cold air hitting her hips sent goosebumps down her legs. Willow sat up to slip her shirt off as George began to tease the lacy hem of her underwear.

Willow moved to unhook her bra but felt herself freeze as realization washed over her. This would be the first time that George would see her completely naked. And she couldn't deny the nervousness that was suddenly bubbling inside her.

George took his hand away from her lap as he furrowed his eyebrows. "Is everything alright, Willow?" he questioned.

"I'm fine," she quickly insisted in an attempt to swallow her insecurities.

"Are you sure about that?"

"Positive." She smiled.

George tilted his head. "This isn't your first time, is it?"

Willow's eyes widened as she quickly shook her head. "No, no, no," she reassured. "I'm just nervous about nothing. I want to do this, promise."

As he gave her one more unsure look, Willow tried her best at mustering up a confident smile. George leaned in to plant a kiss on Willow's forehead before he moved his hand to the back of her bra. "This okay?" he asked, pausing his fingers on the hooks.

Willow nodded before he undid the back, letting it slip off her. She looked anywhere but George as she felt his eyes rake over her chest.

"You know I think you look breathtaking in anything," he stated.

She let a small laugh escape. "I don't think you're half-bad yourself," she teased.

George rolled his eyes as he unbuttoned his pants, letting them fall to the ground. He stood for a moment in his boxers, both of them daring the other to break their eye contact.

He was the first to lose as he repositioned his body on top of hers, planting a kiss on her lips before trailing his tongue down her throat. George left small bites as he went, stopping to suck in some spots longer than others. Then he ran his tongue across her chest, finally bringing her nipple into his mouth.

The butterflies in Willow's stomach erupted in pleasure as he gently nibbled and sucked on each of her nipples. Her breath became ragged the longer George sucked, and she crossed her legs to increase the feeling between them.

But soon a hand forced her legs apart as George began to massage her fabric-covered heat once more. Willow's hands tangled in his hair as she felt his boner pressing against her thigh. Everything he did to her was driving her closer to the edge she so desperately wanted to reach.

George's tongue finally continued its journey away from her breast, trailing down her stomach and stopping at the hem of her underwear. As he removed his hand from her clit, he looked up to ask for permission.

Once Willow gave him an eager nod, George took the hem of her underwear in his teeth, swiftly pulling them down her legs. After he had tossed them aside, he paused slightly hovering over her, his eyes trailing over her body.

"What?" she whispered, the knot in her stomach slowly fading.

"Nothing," he smirked. "Just thinking about how good you're going to feel."

Leaning in to kiss her again, George slipped off his boxers before he began to massage her breast. "Wanna know something?" he asked, his finger circling her hard nipple. He began to pepper kisses down her throat. 

"What?"

George slowly dragged his nose up the length of her neck. "I've been thinking about this moment a lot..."

"Oh, really?" she asked, reaching up to trace her finger down his strong jaw.

"Mhm...Thinking about how tight you're going to be, how much I want to make you cum, and how beautiful you're going to look when I'm inside you has gotten me through a lot of lonely nights," he softly explained, as he leaned his head into her hand.

Willow shuddered as his words washed over her. "Seems like it's finally time for the real thing," she teased in an attempt to focus her mind away from his slow movements on her sensitive nipples.

George pressed his lips against hers as he finally positioned his dick between her legs. Willow could feel it centimeters from her wet entrance as it pressed against her inner thigh. She realized now that she hadn't been able to get a good look at it, and it seemed like she was in for a big surprise.

"Christ..." he mumbled against her swollen lips as he rubbed the tip of his dick around her heat. "I don't think I can wait any longer—you ready, beautiful?"

"Yes," she moaned, her legs trembling. "Please fuck me, George."

Willow hadn't even finished her sentence before George was slowly thrusting deep inside of her. His dick quickly filled her up as her walls tightened around him. And as a shocked gasp escaped her lips, she threw a hand over her mouth.

As he began to rhythmically slide in and out of her, George chuckled at her reaction. He softly placed his hand on the one that covered her mouth before tugging it off. "No need to be quiet here, baby. You know I love hearing you moan for me."

Her grip on the sheets tightened with each thrust. Shuddered gasps and moans began to tumble out of her mouth. Willow felt a familiar knot form in her stomach as she was finally able to muster out the words, "Fuck me harder, Georgie."

Placing a hand on the headboard behind Willow's head, George began to pick up the pace of his movements. As he burrowed his head into the crook of her neck, she slightly lifted her hips to cause his dick to go even deeper inside her—loud moans now rhythmically echoing around the room.

His dick continued to pound into her as her body began to tingle with pleasure. Her core was pulsating around him, and all her senses were heightened the deeper George went.

"Christ...Willow," George panted, picking his head up and moving a hand to grab at her hip. "You feel so good...Fuck—you're so beautiful like this."

Willow gave him a sultry smile before she grabbed the back of his neck to pull him even closer. Her hands tangled into his hair as they sloppily moved their mouths together. However, as George picked up the pace, neither of them was able to do anything but moan.

The feeling in Willow's stomach was rapidly growing the deeper George was inside her. She felt her legs begin to shake and her toes curl as she moaned, "Shit...George! You're so big—I'm about to..."

As Willow's eyes flew shut, a wave of pleasure rushed through her. The knot in her stomach untangled, causing her entire body to shake as her walls clenched around George's dick. She could feel the wetness drip down her legs as she dug her fingernails deeper into his shoulders.

His dick twitched inside her before the headboard shook as he tightened his shaky grip on it. George rocked his hips into hers a few more sloppy times before his cum filled her insides, earning a breath of shock from Willow. As he finished, he stuttered out a breathy, "F-Fuck...You're so go-od, darling."

As Willow's high was finally ending, George slowly pulled out of her, a large grin plastered across his handsome face. After pausing to look down at the mess he'd made, he wiped a hand across his forehead as she could finally feel her heartbeat slowing.

He stopped for a moment, still hovering over her as their weak breathing mingled between them. George traced his thumb along her bottom lip as their eyes connected. "You're amazing, Willow," he breathed out, shakily standing up as his eyes roamed over her naked body. "Can I get you a towel?"

Willow laughed at how quickly he had turned into the concerned role—and how well it fit him. "A towel would be great," she smiled. "Check my closet."

After he pressed a kiss to her temple, George disappeared into the closet in search of a towel. In her moment alone, Willow placed a hand on her chest to ensure this wasn't all a dream. And just as she was finally able to slow her shaky breath, he reappeared with a clean towel.

George silently moved to clean the space between Willow's legs. He gently wiped the towel over her before finally grabbing his wand to finish the job with a cleaning spell. Once he placed it on the side table, he finally met her eyes.

"Did you have a nice time?" he asked, barely above a whisper. George sat on the edge of the bed, his forehead still coated in sweat. 

"Amazing," she smiled. Then she leaned up to kiss him deeply for a brief moment. Now that she was clean, Willow stood to find something to sleep in.

As she rifled through her dresser, she heard George clear his throat behind her. She turned to face him, slipping on a large T-shirt in the process.

"I—uh, I wanted to say sorry for finishing inside you without asking," he awkwardly apologized, running a hand through his hair. "I don't even know if you're on anything, so—if you need it—I'll bring you over to that Euphoria shop down the street for some morning-after potion, my treat."

"How gentlemanly of you, George. I will accept your treat," she giggled, tossing the boxers at her feet to him. "But, honestly, it's okay. I—I think I liked it?"

Willow's eyes remained on the ground as she spoke about her new feelings. The sensation had been indescribable as George's cum had filled her up. It was something she'd never experience before, and she already wanted to do it again. Her legs twitched just at the thought of it. 

Once George had pulled on his boxers, he rose from the bed to walk over to where she anxiously stood. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer to his warm body. "I like discovering new things with you, my dear. I'll have to keep your words in mind," he murmured. "Maybe we could even look for your next discovery at the shop tomorrow?"

Willow quickly nodded as the idea floated through her head. Then he planted a soft kiss on the top of her head before grabbing her hand to lead her back to the bed. They quickly settled into the soft mattress and soon drifted off to sleep, George's strong arms wrapped firmly around her.

☆☆☆


	22. Licorice Wand

Laughter and the clanging of pans from the kitchen stirred Willow awake the following morning. She laid still in the bed, her eyes closed, for a few more fleeting minutes before finally opening her eyes to find George still sound asleep.

He was facing her, one arm still lazily draped across her waist. Willow attempted to soften her breathing so that he could sleep a little longer as she glanced over his face up-close for the first time—uninterrupted.

Her eyes followed the faint smattering of freckles that painted his entire face. She was able to notice a small scar that extended from the base of his nostril to his upper lip, something you'd probably never notice without a chance to be this close to him.

George's bare chest continued to rise and fall as she reached out to trace his strong jaw. She could feel the rough stubble he hadn't had a chance to shave off under her finger as she trailed it down to his chin. His nostrils flared with each large breath he took.

His nose was one of her favorite things about George. She loved the way it prominently stuck out from his face. The bump along the bridge of his nose made it unique—and made Willow love it all the more. Every time he dragged it up her neck, shivers went cascading down her spine.

Willow slowly shifted to her back, still careful not to wake him as she thought back on last night. Every moment from their time in the bedroom brought forth a bubbling feeling in her stomach. She felt lucky to have spent the night with him and reassured that he still felt the same way about her.

As she finally began to swing her legs over the edge of the bed at the sound of Juliet's laugh, Willow felt a twinge of soreness in her core while she sat up. She paused to rub her slightly shaky legs before finally hoisting herself out of the bed and setting George's arm back on the mattress.

After she had paused for a moment to stretch out her body and pull on some sweatpants, Willow finally pushed through her bedroom door. The sunlight hit her face, but, thanks to the sobering potion she had downed with George, she wasn't having any lasting effect from the alcohol.

She was greeted by a chorus of "Good Mornings" from Juliet, who stood at the stove, and Angelina, who sat on the barstool closest to the wall. Willow was able to give them a weak smile as she continued to rub her hands down her thighs in an attempt to alleviate the oncoming soreness.

"Rough night?" Angelina laughed as Willow settled into one of the free barstools. Juliet turned away from the stove to stand in front of the chopping board laying on the counter. She began to slice into the bundle of scallions sitting on the wooden board.

"I had a wonderful time last night actually," Willow responded as she attempted to smooth out her hair.

"That's good to hear," Juliet casually began, cracking an egg into the small bowl on the counter. "Did George spend the night?"

Willow's eyes flickered to her closed bedroom door. She leaned her head into her hand as she said, "He did. We had a—uh, a fun night."

The other girls laughed as Willow's face went warm. "Is he still here?" Angelina questioned after taking a small sip from the mug in her hands.

"Did you guys keep the kettle hot?" Willow asked, looking over to the stove. Once Juliet had nodded, she slid off her barstool. "And yes, to answer your question, he's still sleeping in my bed." Juliet let out a small sound of disapproval which Willow chose to ignore.

Willow passed behind Juliet who was busy pouring a lightly colored batter into her pan that was already filled with a few vegetables. "Would you like a pajeon?" Juliet asked as she poured the beaten egg into the pan. "Angie and I were up early enough to run out to the store."

She grabbed a teabag from the counter and a mug from the cabinet. "Sure, I'm starving," Willow responded, pouring the hot water from the kettle over the teabag.

"Oh, I'm sure you worked up quite the appetite last night," Juliet snickered, turning back to pick up her tea. Willow rolled her eyes as she dumped a spoonful of sugar into her mug, wordlessly charming the spoon to continue stirring as she picked up her tea.

She glanced over Juliet, who was chatting with Angelina before she noticed a small mark on the base of her neck. Willow smiled to herself as she took the spoon out of her mug to place in the sink before she began to pass by Juliet. She paused for a brief moment to press her thumb into the dark love bite.

"Seems like you two have no room to talk," she teased as Juliet's hand flew to cover the misshapen bruise. Angelina exploded in a fit of laughter as Juliet mumbled a few choice words under her breath while she turned back to flip the pancake.

"Shouldn't George be up by now?" Angelina asked once her laughter had subsided. "I think the shop opens in an hour."

Juliet placed a hot pancake with scallions running through it and a small dish of dark sauce in front of Angelina as Willow continued to sip her tea. "Um—I don't actually know," she replied. "Maybe he has today off?"

"Or maybe Willow just rocked his shit last night and he's still learning how to walk again," Juliet teased, slicing into the next bundle of scallions on the chopping board. Angelina laughed in response as Willow scoffed. But before she could comment, her bedroom door swung open.

All three girls turned their attention to George who paused to stretch in the doorway before sleepily waving at the audience. He was wearing the same khakis and button-up from yesterday, however, he hadn't bothered to do any of the buttons this time.

He ran a hand through his hair as he asked, his voice still affected by his deep sleep, "Who rocked who's shit last night?"

"I'm pretty sure Angelina rocked Juliet's shit last night based on the mark on her neck," Willow shakily responded, taking a sip of her tea to calm her nerves at the sight of him.

George responded with a short laugh as he walked toward the kitchen. He pressed a kiss into Willow's temple before settling into the barstool between her and Angelina. "Proud of you, 'Lina," he grinned, holding out his fist to her.

Angelina rolled her eyes before lightly tapping his fist with her own and turning back to her breakfast. Willow continued to sip on her warm tea as George stretched his arms high above his head. She caught herself trying to find the tattoo she'd noticed last night, but stopped once she felt Juliet's eyes boring into her.

"So," Juliet began as George's arm settled along the back of Willow's barstool. "Are you planning on staying for a while, George?"

He lightly laughed. "Not longer than I'm welcome. Willow's stuck with me for at least a couple more hours since we still have plans," he turned to Willow, "don't we?"

She softly agreed before he turned back to face Juliet, who was watching him with intense eyes. It was clear that Juliet knew what had gone on between them last night, so Willow knew that meant she had the details of the night George had cooked her dinner playing through her head. There was no hiding the fact that Juliet had no plans to play nice with him, but it didn't seem to bother George—yet.

"Oh, that's fun...So it's like a date? You plan to take her on a date?" Juliet remarked, her eyes trained on him.

"Jules..." Willow breathed out in a warning tone.

"Uh—I'm not sure how to answer that one," he admitted, straightening his posture. Willow could have sworn he slightly puffed out his chest as he stared back at Juliet.

Willow glanced past him to find Angelina slyly smiling as she dipped a bite of her breakfast into the side dish of sauce. She met Willow's eyes before shrugging and turning back to listen to the other conversation.

"Since you can't answer that one," Juliet sighed. "How about explaining why you're not at work, hm?"

"Well, Juliet," George began as he slightly narrowed his eyes. "I planned on having Fred cover for me today. It's a big business, so we have plenty of employees—plus, Fred owes me for covering his shift last week after he had one too many margaritas at karaoke night with Elizabeth."

Willow stared deeper into her mug of tea as the entire room seemed to hold its breath for what Juliet was about to say next. The only noise was Angelina's fork scraping against her plate for a full thirty seconds as George and Juliet continued to stare at each other.

"Would you like a pajeon?" Juliet finally spoke, rolling her eyes. Willow felt herself breathe out a sigh of relief, although she still knew in the back of her head that a lecture was coming from Juliet the moment they were alone.

George settled back into his seat, placing an arm along the back of Willow's chair once more. It was clear he was more relaxed now than he had been a moment ago. So once Juliet had explained the ingredients of a Korean pancake—savory batter, scallions, and an egg—he agreed to try one.

Juliet turned back to the stove as George smiled at Willow. He glanced down at the mug in her hand once she had returned his smile before asking, "May I have a cup of tea, too?"

"You can see the kettle," Juliet stated, her back still turned to them. "Get it yourself."

George rolled his eyes before getting up to make himself a hot cup of tea. Once Juliet and he began to argue about the proper amount of milk to pour in, Willow turned to Angelina.

"Do you have plans for the rest of the day?" she asked as Juliet shoved the hot breakfast in front of Willow before turning to wag her finger at George.

Angelina watched them for a moment before smiling as she turned to Willow. "Yes, yes we do," she responded, crossing her legs. "I think we're going to see a play this afternoon at a local theater and then we're supposed to have dinner with my mum. A bunch of very thrilling things to do."

Willow smiled at her as she nodded. But was unable to respond as her attention was called by the group in the kitchen—since their argument was still going on. The four of them continued to debate the proper way to make tea until everyone had finished eating the breakfast Juliet had made.

Then Willow and George returned to her bedroom so they could get a start to their day. Once they had closed the door behind them, Willow couldn't help but ask, "Are you sure it's okay you're missing work, George?"

"Wills," he sighed as he sat on the floor to pull his shoes on. "You know I'm the boss right? If I'm the one making the schedules, I'm the one who can change them, too. Plus, you're a pretty great excuse for missing work."

As George stood up to begin buttoning up his shirt Willow began to pull the covers up her bed to make it look more presentable. She settled onto the edge of the bed, looking at George.

"How's this sound?" he began. "I'll take you to the shop, and then maybe we can do something else afterward to make the most of this day off, hm? We can go to a park or something, just have a nice relaxing time."

Willow smiled as he came to join her on the bed. He wrapped an arm around her as she leaned into him. "That sounds lovely," she mumbled into his chest. "But I need to shower first."

"Alright, sounds like a plan to me," he responded, lightly drumming his fingers on her leg once they had broken apart. "How about you stay here and shower, and I'll go talk to my brother and change? We can meet back here in a few minutes."

Once Willow had nodded, George stood up, shot her a smile, and with a small look of concentration and loud Crack! George had Apparated out of her room. She quickly stood up to make her way into their bathroom. Willow twisted the handles of the shower to turn on the hot water before she made her way back into her bedroom.

She rummaged through her dresser and closet for a moment while the water heated up. After Willow had placed a square-necked top and a long skirt on her bed, she made her way back into the bathroom where she stripped down and hopped in.

The next several moments were spent letting the hot water wash over her aching body before she finally felt a small sense of relief. Then she washed down her skin and stepped out of the shower to wrap a large towel tightly around her.

She stood in the mirror for a minute, twisting around to look herself over. George's voice calling her beautiful rang in her head each time a negative thought tried to float through. She couldn't help but softly smile as she turned to apply some light makeup and slip on the clothes she'd already laid out.

Just as she was putting on a pair of shoes, George reappeared in the middle of her bedroom with a large Crack! He was now dressed in a pair of jeans and a dark quarter-zip sweatshirt. Willow felt a shock go through her body as the noise startled her.

"Merlin, George!" she gasped. "What if I was changing?"

He laughed for a moment. "Yeah, so are you ready to go pick up that morning after potion, Wills?" he asked, giving her a pointed look.

"Point taken," she sighed, slipping on the other shoe. She stood up to push some things into her tote bag and sling a jacket over her shoulder.

Once she was fully ready, Willow grabbed her bag and they breezed through the main room, shooting Juliet and Angelina a quick goodbye. Then it was down the back stairs and out the front door.

The air in Diagon Alley was crisp and slightly chilly as it blew on their faces while they weaved through the throngs of people. Sundays were a less crowded day on the streets, but they still had plenty of people out and about. However, George and Willow were able to quickly make their way toward Gringotts Wizarding Bank. They stopped just short of the tall, recently rebuilt structure before George had turned toward a dark alleyway Willow had never been to.

"Wait," she grabbed his arm, "why are we going down Knockturn Alley?"

George looked over her shoulder, a smirk playing on his lips. He reached up to take the hand on his arm in his own, giving it a light squeeze. "Well, you didn't think a sex shop was going to be in the middle of Diagon Alley, did you? It's only a little way in," he interlaced their fingers, "don't worry, I'll protect you."

Willow's heart skipped a beat as she looked up at him. The sun behind him was illuminating his body and the late November air breezed through his hair causing a stray lock to fall out of place. She reached up to tuck the hair back in before she nodded.

He grinned down at her before leading her into the darkly-colored alley. It was much less crowded than Diagon Alley, and each building was darker than the last. They passed by a few stray wizards dressed in ragged clothes as they leaned against the buildings where they held conversations in hushed tones.

George was right, they only had to walk a short while before he was pulling her into a dark wooden shop. Willow was able to see the words "Evangeline's Euphoria Emporium" painted across the outside of the building in grand gold letters.

Once they had pushed through the black door, the bell rang above them as an employee behind the counter gave them a quiet greeting. Willow took a moment to glance around at the small shop as she gripped George's hand tighter.

There was only one other customer inside the shop, but his back was to them as he looked over the options on the far wall. The entire store was a lot smaller than she had anticipated. It was mostly covered in shelves that had sex toys, potions, and more perfectly stacked along the walls.

From where she stood, Willow couldn't see anything in the store she'd ever heard of besides blindfolds and ropes. She pursed her lips as George finally turned toward her. "So, are we still looking around, or just grabbing the potion and going?" he asked, releasing her hand.

Willow glanced around the store one more time as she thought back on the night they had made macarons together. "Do you remember how we both said we wanted to do more bold things in our lives?" she questioned, looking up at him.

George slowly nodded his head as she turned back to face the store. "I think I want to look around," she stated.

After both agreeing to buy at least one thing they wanted to try out, they spent the next several moments wandering around the store separately. Willow read each label she came across carefully as she decided on what to buy. She had a scared feeling in her stomach that George was going to show up at the end with something too intense for her, but she had reminded herself that she could always say no.

Willow was currently looking over different colored silk scarves that were advertised as restraints for anyone's pleasure. She ran her finger along each of the options as a slight twinge in her core signaled that this may be her best choice.

She glanced behind her to see George already checking out at the counter. His body blocked whatever he had bought, but she saw him pointing to the potions behind the cashier's head. Willow turned her attention back to the silk scarves in front of her.

She played with the hem of her shirt as she glanced between them and the other toy she'd been staring at the whole time. There was no way that George would be mad if she bought two things, so she shyly pulled out the package of scarves and grabbed the small toy from down the aisle before she headed toward the cashier's counter.

George turned to face her just as he was slipping his items into a small, unlabeled bag, so Willow quickly hid the things in her hands behind her back before he could see them. He smirked down at her with a slight raise of his eyebrows before stating that he'd meet her outside.

After he had disappeared out of the door, Willow stepped up the counter to place her items in front of the cashier. He quickly looked over them before typing a few things into the large register and telling her the total. She dug through her bag for a moment before she found her pouch of coins.

Dropping a few into the employee's hand, Willow grabbed both the items to place into her bag before he could offer her one from the store. She shot him a shy smile as the heat pooled in her cheeks before she rushed out of the shop.

George was leaning against an abandoned building when she exited the door of the sex shop. He straightened up at the sight of her before reaching into his small bag. As she walked over to him, he pulled out a small vial of bright green liquid. Willow took it from his hand as she looked over the white label.

"Morning After Potion: The perfect solution for those late-night slip-ups. Quick and painless, just drink the whole bottle within forty-eight hours of conception," she read aloud, the bottle balanced in her palm. "How interesting, also, thank you."

"Told you it was my treat," he grinned.

Willow smiled as she playfully rolled her eyes. Then she popped out the small cork and poured the sickly-sweet liquid down her throat. She paused for a moment to ensure she had swallowed it all before glancing up at George who was watching her in amusement.

"Okay, now that that's settled," she slipped the empty bottle into a nearby trash can, "what else did you have planned?"

He handed her the small bag in his hand, motioning to her tote bag so that he wouldn't have to carry it. Then he placed an arm out in front of her before clearing his throat. "Were there any instructions about not Apparating after taking it?" he wondered aloud. "Because if not, you should grab my arm."

Willow glanced to the trash can where the empty bottle had been tossed into then back at him. Off the top of her head, she couldn't remember anything against it, so she tightened her grip on the bag on her shoulder before placing a hand on George's forearm.

They were suddenly whooshed away, Willow could feel a slight tug at her belly button as they twisted through time. After a few seconds of travel, they landed at the corner of a large park in central London, Willow tripping slightly as they came to a halt.

George reached out to grab her arm so she would remain balanced, and once she had sorted herself out, Willow noticed that the soreness in her stomach and thighs had disappeared since she'd taken the potion. Since she was feeling better, she turned to George who was already smiling down at her. Then he looped her arm through his and they began to stroll through one of the many trails covering the park.

They wandered around the area for an hour, before it had begun to lightly snow. George had insisted they stop to buy a few warm drinks from a Muggle vendor before they continued their walk.

Willow enjoyed listening to him talk about the shop, Hogwarts, and his favorite pairs of socks he owned until the tips of her fingers had turned numb. She had thrust her hands as deep into her jacket pockets as possible, but it wasn't doing anything to return the feeling in them. So soon George had directed their walk toward Diagon Alley.

☆☆☆

That night, after they had gotten back from the park, George and Willow had quickly settled into the couch to watch a Muggle movie George had never heard of on the television.

They had been watching the cartoon for over an hour now, but Willow hadn't been able to focus on anything for a while. About thirty minutes in, George had placed her legs in his lap, and he had been tracing the bare skin of her calf under her skirt the entire time.

She felt his body vibrate as he laughed as the cartoon dragon argued with the main character on screen. She felt herself smiling over at him—she loved the fact that a simple children's movie still made him laugh—before she leaned over to grab her mug of hot tea on the table George's legs rested on.

Just as she was sitting up, her hand wrapped tightly around the cup of tea, George shifted his legs underneath hers. The tea in her hands sloshed at the sudden movement that she wasn't prepared for. Suddenly a sharp pain shot through her leg as half the full mug dumped onto her lap.

"Oh, fuck!" she yelped, causing George to tear his eyes away from the screen. The pain on her legs continued as his eyes widened at the sight, quickly throwing her legs off him to stand up.

"Willow! Merlin, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry," he profusely apologized. "Where can I find a rag? Let me get you a rag."

Even though she insisted it wasn't that terrible of a pain—a lie only to make him feel better—Willow still pointed in the direction of the kitchen. George quickly ran to the cabinets, throwing each of them open before he was finally able to find a clean towel.

He rushed to sit back in his spot on the couch before reaching out to grab the hem of her skirt. "Do you mind if I lift it to look?" he quietly asked.

She nodded her head as she tried to focus away from the stinging pain on her upper thigh. George quickly bunched her long skirt up to her waist before wiping down her leg. Willow looked down at her lap to see a small red mark that was slowly forming into a burn.

"I told you it wasn't that bad," she joked. George playfully rolled his eyes as he tossed the rag onto the table with her half-empty mug.

"Well, at least let me use a healing spell on you to help alleviate some of the pain that's to come," he insisted, reaching to grab his wand.

"Oh, George the pain is already starting to fade," she said, running a hand on the burn. But as she slightly flinched with the contact, George gave her a pointed look causing her to sigh and motion to his wand.

He grinned over at her. "My mum taught me this one," he explained, aiming his wand at her upper thigh. "She had to use it a lot on us growing up, so she finally just gave up and taught it to us herself."

Willow smiled at the thought before George spoke an incantation she didn't recognize, his wand still aimed at the small burn. She watched as a white light softly shot out of the wand, bathing her thigh. And once it was gone, she could see the burn slowly fading away.

George's eyes stayed trained on her thigh until the burn was completely faded. Then he slowly leaned in to plant a small kiss on the spot on her upper thigh, sending a shiver through Willow's core. She lightly gasped as he tilted his head up to look at her.

"Thank you, George," she breathed out. "For healing me...My leg, for healing my leg."

"Of course," he grinned. "It's the least I could do since it was my fault you spilled your drink."

Willow swallowed as she looked over his soft face. "You've done so much for me today," she mumbled, her hand reaching out to trace his jaw. "Maybe it's time I repay you?"

George darkly chuckled. "Is that so?" he responded, his gaze flicking between her lips and eyes. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

Once she had grabbed his hand, Willow stood up to drag George into her bedroom. He happily obliged, reaching out to squeeze her ass as they walked. She turned over her shoulder slightly as she laughed.

After they had both entered the bedroom, Willow shut the door behind her so that Bartholomew couldn't follow them inside. Juliet and Angelina had left a note stating that they would be staying the night at Angelina's mother's house, so she didn't bother with the silencing spell as she began to grab the hem of George's sweatshirt.

"Are you gonna tell me the plan?" he questioned, lifting his arms to help her slip the sweatshirt off. "Or just going to keep me in suspense?"

George now stood shirtless in the middle of her bedroom, his eyes still trained on her. She smirked up at him before tilting her head and turning on her heel to make her way to the bag in the corner.

"I think we need to establish a safe word," she stated, beginning to rummage through the tote bag in search of the items she'd purchased earlier today. "If you and I are going to be experimenting with things, we need to have one as a way to put something to a stop if we don't like it."

"Wills," he laughed, "what exactly do you have planned for me?"

She turned around to face him, the silk scarves in one hand and a small toy in the other both hidden behind her back. "What do you want our safe word to be?" she asked, ignoring the question.

"Uh...isn't it typically something you wouldn't say during sex?" Willow nodded. "Then how about something food-related...a candy or something. What's your least favorite thing from Honeydukes?" George asked, moving to unbutton his jeans.

"Hm...I've never been fond of the Chocolate Frogs," she stated. "Or those gross black Licorice Wands, never been a fan."

George laughed as he left his pants unbuttoned, but still around his waist. "Sounds like we should use the Licorice Wand, I never liked those either."

Willow nodded her head as she played with the silk scarves still in her hands. "So, if either of us ever does anything the other doesn't like, we agree that the phrase 'Licorice Wand' means we have to stop," she repeated.

"Agreed," George replied, taking a step toward her. "Now what did you have in mind tonight?"

"You can go ahead and finish taking off your pants," she said, moving to palm him before continuing past him to the bed. She slipped her top and skirt off, leaving her only in her bra and underwear as she sat down on the edge of the bed. "Then come join me."

George eagerly slid his jeans the rest of the way down his legs as his eyes finally settled on the scarves in Willow's lap. He hurried to join her on the bed, the mattress dipping slightly as he sat down.

"You have a plan for those?" he asked, motioning his hand toward her lap.

A light smile played on her lips as she looked up at him through her eyelashes. "I think I'd rather show you than just tell you," she teased.

Willow stood up, placing a hand on his bare shoulder. She noticed an erection already forming below the fabric of his boxers as George watched her every movement.

She slightly tugged at his shoulder, signaling that she wanted him to scoot toward the top of the bed. He quickly obliged, sliding his body backward until his back touched the headboard.

"You know, I don't do well with people who tease, darling," he muttered, reaching toward her hip. Willow could feel the heat pooling in her core as his fingers pressed into her bare skin, but there was something inside her that wanted to be in charge tonight.

She placed the smaller toy down on the bedside table before she pried George's desperate grip off her hip. "Do I have to remind you that I'm the one doing the pleasing tonight, George?"

He let out a long groan as she pushed him back toward the headboard. Then she turned to grab her wand to cast a cleaning spell on the scarves and toy, both of which rested on the bedside table.

Then she placed her wand on the table, picking up the silver scarves to twirl between her fingers as she turned back to him. "Ever been tied up, George?" she asked.

He lightly smirked, his gaze trained on her chest and then back to her eyes. "Guess there's a first time for everything."

Willow coyly smiled as she finally joined him on the bed. As she settled on her knees next to him, he reached out to her, but his hand was quickly swatted away as Willow rolled her eyes.

"You're not gonna be allowed to touch me tonight, babe," she explained, stretching the scarf out.

"Where's the fun in that?" he pouted.

"I can assure you, George," she began. "You're still going to have a lot of fun..."

Willow didn't allow him a chance to respond before she had swung her leg over his lap to straddle him. George let out a small moan as she felt his dick twitch against her.

The wetness in her underwear increased as she finally reached out to tie his hands together with a tight knot. Then she took another scarf to loop around her bedpost and the make-shift handcuffs so he couldn't move his arms.

"Do they feel okay?" she whispered into his ear as she began to slowly grind into his hips.

"Oh, fuck," he moaned out. "They feel amazing...You feel even better though with your wet—"

"George," she cut him off by placing a hand over his mouth. "I only asked you about the restraints."

He groaned into her hand as she paused her hips. "You really expect me to stay focused on those?" he remarked back, his eyes raking over her body.

"If I ask you to, yes."

"Well, I'm sorry you're so distracting."

Willow rolled her eyes before she reached over the grab the other surprise, purposefully placing her chest in George's face. His tongue shot out in an attempt to kiss her, but she pulled away too quickly for him.

"Wills..." he groaned. "Why won't you let me touch you? I want you to get off too."

"Because I don't need you tonight," she stated, finally showing off the toy in her hand. "It's a hands-free bullet vibrator. It'll pleasure me, while I get to pleasure you."

George's eyes widened. The bed shook as he reached out to touch it, forgetting he was still tied up.

"So then what are your plans for me then, beautiful," he questioned as he watched her shift down his body. "Since you've got yourself taken care of..."

Willow smiled up at him as she reached back to unhook her bra, allowing her breasts to fall out. She tossed the bullet vibrator onto the bed next to George's leg as she rose on her knees to slip her underwear off before she settled between his legs.

"It's my turn to put on a show for you, George," she teased, running a finger around her hard nipple as she maintained eye contact with him. "Is that alright?"

George's dick twitched inside his underwear as Willow leaned up to begin to slowly trail her finger down his chest. He gave her a short nod as she moved one hand to begin massaging his large dick over his boxers, while the other found his jaw.

She leaned up to deeply kiss him as he began to moan into her mouth once her hand movements got harder. She quickly broke away so she could leave wet kisses down his neck, stopping to suck on his collarbone in more than one spot. George continued to moan out a string of curse words as his erection grew underneath her hand.

Finally, Willow tore her mouth away from the spot on his neck to continue planting kisses down his chest and stomach. She leaned back once she had reached his boxers, tearing her hand away from his dick long enough to look to him for permission. Once George breathed out a deep "please, baby," Willow swiftly yanked his underwear down his legs.

George's dick sprang forward, and for the first time, Willow was able to stare for as long as she wanted. Just as she had suspected last night, it was large. It stood straight up, droplets of precum leaking out as George leaned his head up.

"Are you just gonna stare at it, Willow?" he teased. "Or are you gonna do something about it?"

His words sent a shock through her stomach as she playfully rolled her eyes. Then she leaned in to wrap her hand around the head of his cock, using her thumb to begin to slowly rub the precum down the length of his shaft. Once she had reached the bottom, Willow slowly ran her hand back up—twisting it slightly to cause a deep groan to tumble out of George's mouth.

"F-Fuck, darling," he sputtered out. "You're gonna have to go faster than that for me."

She reached down to rub the wetness from between her legs on her fingers before moving her hand up and down his length a few more times. George's breath shuddered out with each twist of her hand. Finally satisfied with her work, Willow leaned over to grab the vibrator.

"You're going to have to bear with me, George," she explained as she examined the small toy in her hand. "I've never done something like this."

"I told you I'd let you experiment with me, Wills," he reminded, his hips bucking forward as Willow was finally able to turn on the vibrator. "Fuck—but please, just do something to me before I try to rip your bedpost off and take you myself."

The sound of the vibrator and George's threats caused the feeling between her legs to increase. She needed to get his dick in her mouth now—before she was also ready to snap.

Without hesitation, Willow moved the vibrator between her parted legs. She let go of it as it floated to her clit. And as soon as it had made contact, a large moan sounded from her lips.

"Christ, baby," George shuddered out, his dick twitching even more as Willow lowered her shaky body toward it. "Please—fucking touch me like the good little slut I know you can be..."

The vibrator on her clit was sending shockwaves through her body—causing the butterflies in her stomach to erupt with pleasure as it remained trained on the sensitive spot.

But Willow attempted to focus her thoughts back to George's dick as she finally took it into her warm mouth. He let out a raspy groan as she began to roughly circle her tongue around his sensitive tip.

If George wanted her to prove herself, she was willing to do so. As her hips bucked against the vibrator, Willow hollowed out her cheeks as she pushed his dick inside her mouth. Her hands moved to the base since she couldn't fit the whole thing in at once.

Willow began to bob her head up and down his dick, and each time her tongue flicked over his tip George would gasp for air. His cock pulsed in her mouth as she looked up at him, arching her back to push her ass into the air as they made eye contact.

"Oh, Merlin...Wills, fuck—you're such a good girl," he managed to say in between moans. "Fuck I want to touch you so bad..."

The vibrator began to pick up speed, and Willow could feel herself reaching closer to finishing as she began to apply more pressure to her twisting movements and she shifted a hand to massage his balls. George was forced to break eye contact with her as his head fell back, a string of curse words tumbling out.

Willow's legs began to tremble as the vibrator pushed onto her sensitive clit. George's hips shot up as she let her spit drip down his dick, which caused it to hit the back of her throat. She instinctively gagged at the sudden movement, which only caused George to moan louder.

The bed frame shifted as George unsuccessfully tried to bring his hands down to her. As much as she wanted to feel his rough touch, there was something about his restraints that made Willow feel powerful. She smirked up at him as she came up for air, and in the split second she took to breathe, George's dick twitched with anticipation.

"I'm so close, George," Willow moaned before lowering her mouth back to his length. She began to kiss down his dick, and, once she had reached the base, Willow trailed her tongue back up to the tip. "Are you gonna cum for me, baby?"

"Shit—yes, Willow," he gasped as she circled her tongue around his tip. "Let me—Let me cum, darling. I need to cum in your throat..."

She lowered her parted lips back onto his dick. The drool in Willow's mouth mixed with his precum began to drip down his length as her bobbing became sloppier the closer they both reached the edge. She felt herself moments from finishing, as the vibrations in her core made her entire body tremble.

"Baby, you're doing so good—F-Fuck," George stuttered out, his dick pulsing against her tongue. "I'm gonna finish...Are you ready?"

Willow nodded her head the best she could as she forced herself to let his tip reach the back of her mouth. Her body shook as George finally shot straight down her throat at the same time the vibration's pushed her over the edge.

Tears pooled in Willow's eyes as she felt her body shake with pleasure. A rush of relief washed through her as she felt her stomach clench. She lifted her head enough to breathe before she looked into his eyes as she swallowed the remaining bit of cum in her mouth.

She felt the vibrator fall onto the mattress below her as she lowered her shaky body to sit on her knees. Neither of them said anything for a moment, as they tried to slow their breathing.

Willow finally slid off the bed to walk over and untie George, her heart still beating in her ears with each step. Once he was free, George wrapped a strong arm around her waist to pull her into his lap.

"You really are amazing..." George stated, wrapping her in his arms. He placed several kisses all over her face before finally reaching her lips. Once they broke apart, George grinned down at her—Willow still coming down from the high of her new vibrator.

"I'm all for trying things once," he started. "But I sure did miss this," he playfully grabbed her ass, "a lot. Maybe next time you're the one tied up?"

Willow giggled into his chest as she snuggled deeper into his embrace. "So you think there will be a next time?" she teased.

"Oh, I fucking hope so," George replied, placing his chin on the top of her head. "I'm far from done with you."

☆☆☆


End file.
